Often on the mountain, I sit
At sunset, randomly walkin'
My gaze over the plain below,
The changin' tableau at my feet
Over there the flowin' river
Windin' its way into the distance
Where we wove ourselves together
Where dreams wound around reality
At the top of this mountain, crowned
With twilight, stars throw a last light,
And the wispy char of the Queen of shadows
Rises, and the edges of the vision are visible
Dartin' from the dark depths,
A delicate sound spreads in the air,
The Traveler stops, and the words form;
A whisper catches a ride on the wind
Listen, tryin' to understand
What could it be all about?
Somethin' that was once known
Then forgotten and left behind
Hill in hill in vain within sight,
South from dawn to sunset,
Search all points of the immense
And say: nowhere do answers await
In this valley, this place, this ranch,
River, rocks, forests, so dear solitudes,
The presence, or the lack thereof,
Awaits, insists the answer is here
But there is no beginnin' or end
Only an indifferent view from here;
In a sky dark or pure, what's the difference,
Whatever the view, expectin' nothin' of the days
When I followed the Traveler,
My eyes could see across the void;
But of what was illuminated,
I had not the strength to believe
Yet perhaps, beyond this terminal fear,
In a place where other skies shine,
If only temporary, for awhile
Would appear what I have dreamed
There, I envision the source of aspiration,
There, I find myself and redemption,
And this ideal truth that every soul desires,
That has no name in the land of exile
What can I, focused on the dream of you,
Wave on wave of wishes, wash me up,
In the land of exile why still I?
With the will, can the way be found?
Weary now, the sun sets on the prairie,
The night wind rises in the valley;
My dreams, similar to the fallin' snow:
Carried away by the stormy north wind
And the whispered words as well,
Carried away but not before
Finally, their meaning, clear now
As I stare over the craggy cliff
That which was once known long ago,
Like a half remembered dream
The heart of the matter: Forgiveness:
If only the will can be summoned
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem