Lucian Blaga
English Translation by Chamnongsri L. Rutnin
Photo by Chamnongsri Hanchanlash
LIGHT
This radiance
flooding my heart when I look at you,
is it not a spark
from the life-thirsting light
that was created
on the first day of time?
Nothingness lay agonized
adrift in the darkness of the unknown,
when the Unfathomed One signaled
“Let there be light!”
All of a sudden
appeared an ocean
and turbulent storm of light,
a searing thirst for sin,
a desire, passion, ardour
and yearning for the world
and the sun.
That dazzling blinding light
where has it vanished?
Who knows?
Perhaps,
the radiance
that floods my heart as I look at you
is the last spark of the light
that blazed
on that first day of time.
Photo by Chamnongsri Hanchanlash
Mountain, Embody Me
Even though
all I have is you, transient body,
I shall not crown you with blossoms
- crimson and white;
for your fragile clay
is too puny for the boundless soul
that is mine.
You, mountains
and seas,
embody me,
embody me ‘til all my madness
is done.
Vast earth, be my frame,
be the breast over this tumultuous heart
be the seat of the storms that torment me
be the vessel that holds this wayward self.
My immense steps would then be heard
throughout the universe
and my manifestations would be
impetuous and free
as I,
Sacred Earth!
In love,
I would lift all the seas up to the sky
with strong, wild, ardent arms
- up to the sky
to clasp it
to break its girth
to kiss its flashing stars.
In hate,
I would crunch
under my stone feet
all the poor wandering suns
and, perhaps, smile.
But, transient body, all I have is you.
Photo by Chamnongsri Hanchanlash
I Crush Not the World’s Coronet of Wonders
I crush not the world’s coronet of wonders.
My mind murders not
the mysteries met
on my ways
- in flowers, or eyes,
on lips or graves.
Others’ lights
stifle the spells of the concealed,
unpenetrated in the cavernous depths
of darkness.
But I,
my light augments enigmas of the world
just as the moon’s pallid beams
diminish not, but shimmering,
intensify night’s mysteries.
I enrich the shadowed horizon
with shudders,
great shudders of sainted secrets,
and things uncomprehended
will grows more incomprehensible
under my watching eyes,
for I so love
flowers and eyes,
and lips, and graves.