Éboulez-vous montagnes...
Éboulez-vous montagnes,
Qui des miens m’avez séparé
Laissez à mes yeux la voie libre
Vers le pays de mon père bien-aimé.
Je m’acharne en vain à l’ouvrage
Mon cœur là-bas est prisonnier.
Paix et salut, ô mon pays !
Mes yeux ont parcouru des mondes
Ma vue est un orage de printemps
Dans les tumultes des neiges fondantes.
Mère, ô mère bien-aimée
Ah ! l’exil est un long calvaire !»
Tomaz Salamun (1941- ; trans. Charles Simic [astute readers will have noticed that I cannae do haceks, the word hacek being a case in point])
To a Golem
Lost in thought,
you came to watch me.
I’m like an olive branch – your face.
Houses are on fire in the sun.
The bridge is pasted together stone by stone
and the sky keeps gnawing.
The hands are seizing me.
I hear the motion of soft nibs.
Smoke rises out of me.
I evaporate into you, tasting your
fruit, passerby.
The sheep scratches herself on the rock,
the windows are wiped in a dream.
Sweet rehearsing pours over me.
I’m folding your door latches.
I shuck the black, silky
festive hall of your warm breath,
the impermanence of your life.
2 comments:
it's motion in the 8th line
Fair enough. I'll set it right.
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