Poetic-Verses from ATHANASE
O Lord, Change Me in Shining verses (English)
O Lord, change me to shining verses
To Boniface
"Remain before the door if you want it opened to you.
Nothing is ever closed, except to your own eyes."
Farid al-Din Attār,
The Language of the Birds
Serenely the sun descends
The celestial ladder of the calendar.
Soon the night will open those blue eyes
To contemplate, from the heights
Of the sky's fertile prairies,
The tender features of your sleeping face.
Standing, alone in a room, very far
From the breathing of your heart,
I will listen to the fugues of the breeze
And the hymns that the choirs of free grasses sing.
I will contemplate the golden leaves of the old oak
Which bid the blackbirds' nests farewell
Before letting their silence drop
Into silence.
And my illuminated soul will murmur:
"O Lord, Friend of my heart,
Change my poem's words to shining verses,
Make their small frail bodies shine
To light the way
Of those who wander solitary
On the ways of the Earth!
"Go, living lamps of my love,
Pour your saving clarity
Into the Pilgrims' eyes!
May they shine, these wells of hope,
In which the world reflects its magnificence,
May they take fire,
May they glisten
Like drops of spring-water
On the fertile hands of great,
Of fruitful solitude."
Translated from the French of Athanase Vantchev de Thracy by Peter Hill.
To Boniface
"Remain before the door if you want it opened to you.
Nothing is ever closed, except to your own eyes."
Farid al-Din Attār,
The Language of the Birds
Serenely the sun descends
The celestial ladder of the calendar.
Soon the night will open those blue eyes
To contemplate, from the heights
Of the sky's fertile prairies,
The tender features of your sleeping face.
Standing, alone in a room, very far
From the breathing of your heart,
I will listen to the fugues of the breeze
And the hymns that the choirs of free grasses sing.
I will contemplate the golden leaves of the old oak
Which bid the blackbirds' nests farewell
Before letting their silence drop
Into silence.
And my illuminated soul will murmur:
"O Lord, Friend of my heart,
Change my poem's words to shining verses,
Make their small frail bodies shine
To light the way
Of those who wander solitary
On the ways of the Earth!
"Go, living lamps of my love,
Pour your saving clarity
Into the Pilgrims' eyes!
May they shine, these wells of hope,
In which the world reflects its magnificence,
May they take fire,
May they glisten
Like drops of spring-water
On the fertile hands of great,
Of fruitful solitude."
Translated from the French of Athanase Vantchev de Thracy by Peter Hill.
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O Lord, Change Me in Shining verses (English)
O Lord, Change Me in Shining verses (English)
