Venice masks

Friday 11 July 2014

Mountain - Edvard Kocbek

Whenever I look at you, you are magnificent
and when I gaze at your peak from nearby
my lips start to tremble, whispering, oh sacred
mountain, oh solemn and mysterious mountain, oh
untamed  and maternal mountain, oil
the primal and bold flight toward the sky,
fill of sighs and venerable memories,
oh dreaming mountain, locked within yourself,
bearing myriads of scars. You seem indifferent
to your secrecy, but in truth your serenity
terrifies me, though l can never see you from all sides.
In silence I hear the purity of your memories,
sense your eternal walk toward home,
and knowing you'll reach it,
your calm assurance is ancient.
You force a man who looks upon you
To doubt himself, discovering your
true secret: you are the most magnificent pregnant woman,
shyly close to giving birth,
shifting imperceptibly in choosing the beautiful green dress
with white and blue flowers,
you are on your way to the secret place
the volcanic breath has awakened in you.
Your breathing agitates the wild animals and tells
of the widening of your womb,
your breasts are swelling from divine milk
and wild honey,
the clouds above you tell the story
of your indestructible mythology,
they all want to be part of the celebration
of you giving birth
and I, too, am in awe, am repeating
the words of glory: oh magnificent mountain,
oh wild mountain, oh sacred and solemn mountain,
the maternal, the mysterious.

Edvard Kocbek (1904 – 1981) Slovenia
Translated by Sonja Kravanja

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you. Note that comments are moderated so it may be a day or two before your comment is posted - irrelevant or abusive comments will not be published.