Some mornings I like to get up before dawn
And see the sunlight morphing everything;
I like to watch the graded transformation
Of clouds in strata on the far horizon,
Streaks of pink, orange, red to scarlet,
Across the arc of purblind human vision,
With cloud-mist below the hill-crest
And a casserole of grey-blue shades above.
By instinct or habit I stretch out my arms
Almost as if I want to hug the coming morn,
And raise high my arms in reverence to What
I cannot imagine or name or seek to know,
Except as Something beyond Time and Change.
A mantra recites ‘Namah Savitre', as if a chant
Will serve to live that duration and feel blessed.
I am no priest or seeker of Salvation;
But it is enough that I want to greet the Day
In my own odd way.
- - -
Note: A Vedic chant of Hindu prayer to the Sun, and
the vivifying power of Savitr gives daily reverence to
the Cause of all Creation (‘Srishti') , ideas of time and
change.
Across the arc of purblind human vision,
With cloud-mist below the hill-crest
And a casserole of grey-blue shades above.
By instinct or habit I stretch out my arms
Almost as if I want to hug the coming morn,
And raise high my arms in reverence to What
I cannot imagine or name or seek to know,
Except as Something beyond Time and Change.
A mantra recites ‘Namah Savitre', as if a chant
Will serve to live that duration and feel blessed.
I am no priest or seeker of Salvation;
But it is enough that I want to greet the Day
In my own odd way.
- - -
Note: A Vedic chant of Hindu prayer to the Sun, and
the vivifying power of Savitr gives daily reverence to
the Cause of all Creation (‘Srishti') , ideas of time and
change.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem