On A Mountaintop Poem by Abraham Sutzkever

There is a tone that blares
After all the music died away…
—Yehoash

Where the blue has swallowed every green,
Runs a waterfall. Into its stream
The sun weaves her last glances, flows
Down together with the stream.

The stream, through folds and crevices, dazzles in the valley.
Sunshine trembles lightly in his depths.
But he cannot conceal his treasure
From the inexorable blue.

Airy nature forces in collision.
Fire-echoes. The blue gives birth to springs
Of calm. Its kisses stir the vitality
Of the earth.

Now is my hour,
Rejoicer, ruler, you!
I am a sound, a tremor
In your deep blue.
On a soft haystack
You created me,
And a red bird
Pecks, pecks, pecks
Genesis syllables
In my skull, and flutters
To celestial Sirius.

Like camels, caravans of shadows
Kneel in awe at the water,
Remain deep in sweet doze,
On soft knees. Dew rustles

Among white leaves. Blue children
Blend with the grass. A wind
Descends from the sky as a link
Between song and time. Silence ignites

Violet drawbridges over the valley.
From the forest — mood calls.
A blend of honeysap and wormwood,
The air.

Destiny mine, let
My footsteps not falter —
Be my oracle now,
When the evening blooms
Under my thoughts
And in the crown of a fir
And at sky's fence
Flashes, flashes, flashes
The soul of the
Black forests.

Eternity? Who knows: is it eternal,
Will this same evening
Not return sweeter, loftier
Through the forest parting of roots?

But the mountain believes. His memory
Recalls the generations when he was
Still a valley, and how, much later,
He became a mountain, a giant.
All is metamorphosis, renewal.
A moment — and the mountains
Seem different. Old becomes young.
Small grows big.

Evening, come, inspire,
I want to be a shadow
Of your cosmic fire,
Against the stars, a tree
Under your coattails,
Here, where I lie,
Rock me, sing me a lullaby,
Be my faithful dome.
Give, give, give
For my body a home.