(Transport of Joy)
This feverish jubilation of the first days of Spring
Coming from the magnificent rhododendrons ,
Doves’ wings embracing the face of the sun,
The fervent abundance of the blackbirds’ song
And this excess of sky above
The open windows
Of the houses!
I burn to hear sweet words,
As luminous as all the simple things that surround me.
I want the soul of my slender poem to be
As white and scented as narcissi.
I want, among all the humid scars of the night,
To see shining, like little yellow night lights,
The magic corollas of primroses
And the cobalt blue of violets in party dresses.
Let my voice lift on the arms of the breeze
And dispel the terrible darkness of yesterday’s troubles.
Let them go far from me
Skies fallen in tatters,
Thoughts that flee the light!
Let the morning ripen between my lashes
Like a red and juicy fruit.
Let me see, at last, the world
Translated from the French of Athanase Vantchev de Thracy 20.03.12.
*with much joy