Poetry International Poetry International
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.

STIL, HET KIND SLAAPT

De gordijnen leggen schaduw over de kamer. In elke hoek
zucht 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.

Close

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.

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.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère