lundi 14 octobre 2013

Peter Poulsen (en anglais)

Peter Poulsen

A sorrow never complete,
A despair never absolute!

The apple blossoms
In the modest orchards of the North
Know nothing of how women wielded the noble kaiken dagger
But, smiling, celebrate
Their innocent nuptials
With the floating purity of the sky.

O Poet of disquiet,
Emancipator of the spirit,
How difficult it is to pass through
The tortuous labyrinth
Of memory, our infinity!

We like to walk, Peter,
On the high ground of repentance
And live beyond the horizons
Of the calendar!

We move forward towards the brightness of the gods
With the days which question
The wisdom of the thistles
That grow on both sides
Of the road,
While the melodious swallow
Discretely espouses the cause
Of exhausted souls.

Peter, my Friend,
It’s not true
That there is no hope
In Sophocles’ tragedies!

Translated into English by Norton Hodges

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