* * *
For three whole days I wined and dined
At ease in foreign places,
But on the fourth day how I pined
For home, and homely faces!
For three days foreigners’ discourse
Retained its fascination,
But on the fourth I sought my horse
And hillfolk’s conversation.
* * *
Our hillfolk, jealous of their own
Small plots, drew lines of demarcation.
But storms ignored the walls of stone
And everywhere wrought devastation.
Our world, too, has its boundaries
But, when hail strikes or thunder flashes,
They never ask whose field it is
Nor worry where the frontier passes.
* * *
What’s the use of gold or diamonds
Hidden in the ground,
Or of stars that give up shining
When there’s cloud around?
Friend, I shall be very brief
Because to me it’s plain:
If you spurn another’s grief,
You live your life in vain.
* * *
An eagle halted, hovering
Above the world with outspread wing.
I’d like to spread my own arms wide,
And clasp all who on earth reside,
All those who grieve, all those who dance,
All those who dwell in this expanse.
I’d like to sing that joy be full
And rocks grow soft as lambs’ new wool.
* * *
Time, do not brag! We’re not all shades
That glimmer in your light!
Many a man among us lives
Whose virtue makes you bright.
Our heroes, poets, philosophers
Illuminate your way.
It’s with their splendour—and not yours—
You shine each hour and day.
* * *
My childhood days are far behind.
In vain I cry and yearn,
For no appeal or plea of mine
Can make those days return.
I see old age ahead of me,
A heavy load he bears.
In vain I cry: «Please let me by!’’
He blocks my way, and stares.