For Norton Hodges
The immediacy of this country scene,
That I can incarnate it in these words.
Each of these modest houses with red roofs
Is camped out in its own solitary dreams.
And there is a trembling in the air that veils
With moving delicacy
Silent joys, heartbreaks,
Arrivals and departures.
This surge of affection I feel here,
The tender smile of grass and trees,
The grace of little byways in the arms
Of humble country flowers.
Is that what the Church Fathers
Called: the irremediable defeat of thought ?
Peace awakens in my soul
The sweet prestige of the years turns
Into tender poems.
Athanase Vantchev de Thracy
Translated into English by Norton Hodges