Translating Rilke, I.40

From The Book of Hours, I.40
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I have hymns I keep to myself.

Though the celestory of my being looms high above you,
my soul bows with you at the rail. You perceive me to be
too grand for you but I am not. You barely discern me
from among all the others kneeling with you.

You graze like a flock of sheep while I watch among you
until evening draws you home. Then I return with you
in the sound of muffled hooves on the bridge,
hiding my own return in the steam rising from your backs.

Translating Rilke, I.1

This is a first attempt at translating from Rilke's Book of Hours, I.1
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The weight of Time imposed itself:
the clear-sounded ironstroke stirred the hour within me,
a tremor resounding upon my senses.
I am feeling - no -
I am emboldened -
I lay hold of the day to mold Time into its own forms.

No matter comes into its own until I have held it under my full gaze;
meaning awaits my attention
ready, as a bride, to come to the one she desires.

Three poems published

Three poems newly published in the winter issue of miller's pond poetry.

Man Behind the Curtain

Again the LORD spoke to Ahaz, "Ask a sign of the LORD your God; let it be deep as Sheol or high as heaven." But Ahaz said, "I will not ask, and I will not put the LORD to the test." And he said, "Hear then, O house of David! Is it too little for you to weary men, that you weary my God also? Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. He shall eat curds and honey when he knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good. For before the boy knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land whose two kings you dread will be deserted." (Isaiah 7:10-16)

The promise-sign of a virgin who births a child was given in response to Ahaz's timidity to ask God for a sign. In the Lord's apparent irritation ("how you weary me with your reservation!"), He provides an enigma that Israel's conflict will be over. This episode, like that of Jacob's wrestling, tells me that the Lord is sometimes waiting for us to be bold, brash and even as importunate as the widow who annoyed the judge in Jesus' parable. It is as if to show that approaching Oz in boldness will not reveal a disappointing man behind the curtain, but a surprising God who, in righteousness, mercy and might is ever for us and with us. Immanuel.

First snow, Winter's kiss

My pity for those who only have three words for snow, that is, snow, damnedsnow and Wisconsin. For those who wonder, I think of Minnesota as merely Wisconsin in extremis, and Michigan's UP as Wisconsin with a line through it. Happy Winter. Blessed Christ-mas.