Translator’s Legacy* Poem by Terence George Craddock (Spectral Images and Images Of Light)

It is like a seed a grain of wheat
germ of an idea contained whole
within caverns of mind.

Ready to be planted
where selected seed
may grow on paper.

Genetic code complete,
prepared by creator
still untranslated
in unintelligible
Babel languages of man.


On chance occasion I may take a seed;
to record of its known information.
Transcribed my field of knowledge and thought
to language spoken of mainstream.

In my native tongue language is rich
while yours is not so full, I am not gifted
with range and scale, in foreign tongue.
Omitted is that which is lost in translation.

Not all sign is capable of being translated
or has an equivalent in another tongue.


Light is dim in this region
where I seldom dwell.
I am less familiar with its landscape.

Rigid dictates of cultural minds
are not always in tune.
Receptive restraint has not added
to visionary understanding.
Sometimes lessens that
which we bequeath.


We cannot all be trained
on the same course
some talents, careers,
interests, lie in other fields.
Acute foresight originates
in indulged mystical visions.


Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Dedicated to Myron, who lent the pen, of this poem’s writing. At work between jobs.