Eastern Night Ripens

/, Blesok no. 07/Eastern Night Ripens

Eastern Night Ripens

A Fountain by the Road
A Waft of Prayer
Calm be the Hand of the Caresser
Anna-Judith
Noon Prayer
Eastern Night Ripens
Vertigo
Saeculum

  We all are time, and the years
  are not what passes by but we are…

Octavio Paz

1.

I was sent to investigate
Persecuted and disdained
And reconciled
To lose myself along the roads
To be bound in ashes
Like a deaf dog
Like a swallowed vowel to be dumb
Not able to return the cry of pain
In dark puddles
To be picked up by the rime

2.

And indeed I disappear
Under a glistering baking-tray

My spirit found
A new earthen hut

I was taken by someone else
and carried into unbeing

3.

I am now a hope
That never arrives
In the dry fountain
A gurgle that never stops
A shadow of shadows from the cloud
That pours itself out
An invisible tail of Cogito and Sum
A moon without change
Without waxing or waning
And a sea
And marble solitude
An empty grave that walks
The heavens

4.

And who knows whether I am
Daybreak
A vision
Or a thought-deed
That vanishes like lightning:
We are all time
Years and the primeval age
Are not what passes by
We are…

Translation: A. Taneski and G. Reid

AuthorBranko Cvetkoski
2018-08-21T17:23:59+00:00 February 1st, 1999|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 07|0 Comments