Tuesday, August 14, 2012

In Memoriam

Remembering My Father

His face severe in clouds above the waters of childhood 
so rarely did he hold my warm head in his hands 
given to belief not forgiving faults 
because he cleared out woods and straightened paths 
he carried the lantern high when we entered the night
I thought I would sit at his right hand 
and we would separate light from darkness 
and judge those of us who live 
– it happened otherwise
a junk-dealer carried his throne on a hand-cart 
and the statement of his mortgage the map of our kingdom
he was born for a second time slight very fragile 
with transparent skin hardly perceptible cartilage 
he diminished his body so I might receive it
in an unimportant place there is shadow under a stone
he himself grows in me we eat our defeats 
we burst out laughing 
when they say how little is needed 
to be reconciled

Translated by John Carpenter and Bogdana Carpenter

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