I was thinking about you
In the golden afternoon
As the pink hue of the sun
Reflected through my closed eyes.
The bright light gently heated
My pallid and tired face
And I waited with eyes closed
For the customary journey,
The one when - as a quiet boat
On a mysterious sea -
My recliner’s off to sail,
On my fever’s flow it sways
Towards carefree, beautifully
Imaginative regions
Where some of the sorry dreams
Of my sad life made their home:
Everything that will not be,
Everything that never was -
I started the day like that,
With eyes closed, as if dead,
I was dreaming: about life.
And the sun turned towards me
As if it dropped pink embers
Onto my eyelashes
From that certain sacred light
That the eye there still perceived
On the holy Father’s breast,
And with constant thirst for it.
And it happened all at once,
Fervently, fully, suddenly
I thought about you, how far
You are, and how lost I am.
And my frightened eyes quickly
Opened: on the tip of the
Mountains where the reddening
Clouds were already grieving.
And a curious vision
With great force took hold of me.
I felt as if: your hands held
The sun up today for me.
That’s why it was so special,
More precious than any light,
And I only know it now
As the evening has arrived,
When your tired hands at last
Are ready to drop the sun,
So will also fall the songs
Softly silent in my heart.
1927
Translated by: Maria Bencsath
Translated by: Maria Bencsath
