Kiss me, Phangan, sweet good-bye
I wash you with my tears
I leave with you my waning night
I leave with you my fears
Let them fly to heavens high
I don’t need them no more
When morning gilds your starlit night
Look to your northern shore
On foaming wings the waking sun
Will see me ride to you
I’ll kiss your soul and we’ll make love
Beneath your smiling moon.
I can heal a hawtorn heart
And mend a broken soul
But who can bring the thousand stars
To heavens dark and cold?
To northern skies where never shines
The gentle Meldanor
Where never bloom for lack of light
The golden Elanor?
Farewell, friend! Though I will not say
That you must never weep
For not all tears fall in vain
And there are wounds too deep;
But this I say: the morning star
Is bright upon your brow
She will lead you home at last
To everlasting Now.
Why are the flowers beautiful so
why are the skies so blue?
why was I born and whither do go
those whom the bells salute?
where are the giant creatures of yore
the kings of a distant past?
where does the child of man go forth
walking his winding path?
why do the mountains crumble and fall
where do the rivers flow?
why do we build our homes so tall
where brambles and weeds will grow?
why are we given the blink of an eye
to spend on this beautiful earth?
why are we born when, doomed to die,
our questions are left unheard?
why do I have this bleeding heart
too large for my chest to hold
bristling with longing for love and for warmth
when soon it will be dead-cold?
why do I ask… for all you will give
is that same old, radiant smile
…maybe I’ll smile, too, see if it will
teach me how angels fly.
Deep is the seed of suffering sown
weeping the child of man is grown
with tears uncounted we stumble through life
we fear, we struggle, we suffer and die
though deeper and darker our forgetfulness grows
and swifter and faster our suffering flows
all they can be is a leaf in a stream
the lingering shadow of a fleeting dream
the kiss of the wind in the rustling leaves,
a whisper, a whimper, a drop in the seas;
breathing in, I am the dreamer, the stream
breathing out, I am the smiling sea.
Of thoughts are all perceptions made
all pain of mind is born;
no truth exists that will not fade
if words can tell its form.
Жить можно и так и сяк
но нужно, чтобы всяк
твоей жизни услышав тон
его глубиной и силой
был навеки поражен.
День может быть дождливым,
да человек тоскливым
но дух не должен быть ничем иным
кроме как любимым.
*
Вам можно не познать себя,
забыть распятые сердца
но в душу чтоб проникнуть
небес чтобы достигнуть
познанная нужна душа.
Battles and wars can be won through strength and courage,
peace through surrender alone.
