You with hands more innocent than mine and with the wisdom of nonchalance. You who can read his loneliness from his forehead better than I, and remowe the slow shadows of hesitation from his face, as the spring wind removes the shadows of clouds floating above the hill. If your embrace gives courage to the heart and your thighs detain the pain, if your name gives rest to his thoughts, and your neck is a shade to his resting place, and if the night of your voice is a grove still untouched storms. Than stay by him, and be more devout than those who had loved him before you. Beware the din that approaches the innocent nests of love. Be gentle to his sleep below the invisible mountain at the edge of the roaring sea. Walk along his shore. May the sadded dolphins meet you. Wander in his woods. Friendly lizards will not harm you. And the thirsty serpents that I tamed will be humble before you. May the birds which I warmed in the nights of sharp frost sign to you. May the boy whom on a deserted road I protected from spies caress you. May the flowers I watered with my tears bring fragrance to you. I was not blessed to witness the best years of his manliness. I did not receive his fertility into my bosom ravaged by glances of cattle drovers at faires, and those of greedy thieves. His children I shall never lead by the hand. And the stories which I prepared for them a long time ago maybe I shall tell weeping to poor little bears abandoned in black forest. You with hands more innocent than mine be gentle to his sleep which is still innocent. Yet permit me to see his face when years unknown to me proceed to descend upon it. And tell me at times a thing or two about him that I may not have to question wondering strangers and neighbors who have pity for my patience. You with hands more innocent than mine stay by his headrest, and be gentle to his sleep! Vesna Parun
Posted on: Tue, 18 Mar 2014 21:41:28 +0000
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