He went with me to the top
of the mountain
No one else would go...
Because it was
Too steep...
Or too slow...
There was a clearing
To be held in the heart's core
Something like Innisfree...
Strange rocks and dense scrub
Where the wind blew
Foreboding and menace
That the sun slipped through;
The place we stood was desolate...
The veil slid sideways,
Dragged in the sky
And through some gap
Was a true far view
Nothing to be known
Again, ever again
Something....
beneath the canopy of trees
The trail guessed at not seen
We knew the strike against us
Too much heart
Everything soaked in silence
That the sun seeped through
As though something stirred
And almost woke
We had the climb,
the struggle to win
And the thrill of the long view
When it was done
The lake was a pond in the valley
And the trees under our feet
Massed down the slope:
We waited under
bright open sky
For something to speak
But nothing spoke
We were not the same
After we went down
Because now we knew;
We were the ones, the only ones..
Who knew, what the wind knew,
And the sun knew,
And the old ones
Knew
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem