Or a wind moves through the brush,
Or a dog barks in a distant farmyard,
I must listen a long time, and hush.
Before a thousand forgotten years
begin,
The bird and the waving wind
Were like me, and were my kin.
A cloud woven across the sky.
Changed and unfamiliar it turns back
And questions me. How shall I reply?
This is my own translation. The original rhymes, but the standard English translation I found does not, so I thought I’d try my hand at a rhyming version. I admit I'm not entirely happy with the middle verse, but you can see the original German here, or the translation by Robert Bly here.
[Picture: Moonlight on Backside, wood block print by Tom Killion, 1973/74 (Image from earthisland.)]
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