Poem
Rati Amaghlobeli
QUIET, A CHILD IS ASLEEP
Curtains have shaded the room. All round
Peace breathes, peace wafts,
But thought is audible, let nothing seek out
Beyond objects. Quiet, a child is asleep!
Quiet, the child is having its midday sleep.
The midday sun glitters in the mirror of the lakes,
The curtains’ cool shade falls gently
On the face of the child, now that it’s asleep
And its still unspoken prayer
Is carried by the flow of dram and the breeze of dream
Into the depths of the garden, and prayer clothes its bosom
With the experience of first perception
Of the child into whose breathing, it seems,
Heaven has descended, or let it be said,
That heaven asks to dwell in us,
And for longest of all in children
It tarries, remains and finds a space
Big enough for a nest – a habitation, a lodging,
In which all Elysium is agitated,
When a child is asleep.
© Translation: 2007, Donald Rayfield
STIL, HET KIND SLAAPT
De gordijnen leggen schaduw over de kamer. In elke hoekzucht de rust diep, ademt de rust diep.
Zelfs gedachten kun je horen, ga dus niet op zoek
naar het wezen van de dingen. Stil, het kind slaapt!
Stil, het kind slaapt over de middag,
terwijl op de spiegel van het meer de volle zon straalt,
speelt de koele schaduw van de gordijnen rag-
fijn over het gezicht van het kind dat nu slaapt
terwijl zijn nog niet uitgesproken gebed
glijdt op de stroom, op de bries van zijn droom
naar het hart van de tuin waar een boeket
van gevoelens op de eerste gewaarworderingen wacht. Loom
ademt het kind op het ritme van de eeuwige zalig-
heid en het zij gezegd dat de hemel
die in ons wenst neer te dalen
het langst in kinderen nestelt,
om daar uit te kijken naar een verblijf –
een onderdak, een kaap
waarin het hele rijk der zielen kabbelt
als het kind slaapt.
© Vertaling: 2007, Ingrid Degraeve
© 2004, Rati Amaghlobeli
From: wre (‘circle’)
Publisher: Siesta, Tbilisi
From: wre (‘circle’)
Publisher: Siesta, Tbilisi
Poems
Poems of Rati Amaghlobeli
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QUIET, A CHILD IS ASLEEP
Curtains have shaded the room. All round
Peace breathes, peace wafts,
But thought is audible, let nothing seek out
Beyond objects. Quiet, a child is asleep!
Quiet, the child is having its midday sleep.
The midday sun glitters in the mirror of the lakes,
The curtains’ cool shade falls gently
On the face of the child, now that it’s asleep
And its still unspoken prayer
Is carried by the flow of dram and the breeze of dream
Into the depths of the garden, and prayer clothes its bosom
With the experience of first perception
Of the child into whose breathing, it seems,
Heaven has descended, or let it be said,
That heaven asks to dwell in us,
And for longest of all in children
It tarries, remains and finds a space
Big enough for a nest – a habitation, a lodging,
In which all Elysium is agitated,
When a child is asleep.
© 2007, Donald Rayfield
From: wre (‘circle’)
From: wre (‘circle’)
QUIET, A CHILD IS ASLEEP
Curtains have shaded the room. All round
Peace breathes, peace wafts,
But thought is audible, let nothing seek out
Beyond objects. Quiet, a child is asleep!
Quiet, the child is having its midday sleep.
The midday sun glitters in the mirror of the lakes,
The curtains’ cool shade falls gently
On the face of the child, now that it’s asleep
And its still unspoken prayer
Is carried by the flow of dram and the breeze of dream
Into the depths of the garden, and prayer clothes its bosom
With the experience of first perception
Of the child into whose breathing, it seems,
Heaven has descended, or let it be said,
That heaven asks to dwell in us,
And for longest of all in children
It tarries, remains and finds a space
Big enough for a nest – a habitation, a lodging,
In which all Elysium is agitated,
When a child is asleep.
© 2007, Donald Rayfield
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