János Pilinszky: Celebration of Nadir (A mélypont ünnepélye)

Who dares to read
in the blood heated sties?
And who dares
on the rough-hewn field
at the time of tidal sky,
and of the earth ebbing away
to wander anywhere?

Who dares
to stop, eyes closed
on the nadir,
there, where
you always find one last waving,
a roof,
a beautiful face, or even
a single hand, a nod, a gesture?

Who can
calmly snuggle up to dreams
overcoming childhood grief,
lifting the sea like a handful
of water to his cheeks?

Translated by: Maria Bencsath