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The Bud |
When the bud shows itself in the morning’s fresh beauty
It reveals at that moment its bosom of gold:
It quaffs sparkling wine from the tavern of dawning
And draws from sun’s goblet the life it can hold.
It rends the sun’s heart, its own head extending:
And oh: what delight it has of that rending. |
At times, o sun of mine, you too raise your veil:
As the glamour of my gaze spins all restless apace.
Let the heat of thy radiance in me find abode
And that vision’s reflection fill all mirror’s space.
Let your gleaming become at the life of my heart
And my soul in your light as in cradle-bed swing.
And little by little bring again flowing joy
In my grief shining clear as the jewel in a ring.
The vision of you let me put far away
And just like a bud live in your lap of light.
Let me bare to its nakedness my hidden thought;
Make plain all the truth of being’s sad plight. |
Translated by: H.T. Sorley |
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