Was there a Garden or was the Garden a dream?
Amid the fleeting light,
I have slowed myself and queried,
Almost for consolation, if the bygone
Over which this Adam, wretched now, once reigned supreme,
Might not have been just a magical
Of that God I dreamed. Already it's
In my memory, the clear Paradise,
But I know it exists, in flower and profusion,
Although not for me. My punishment for
Is the stubborn earth with the incestuous
Of Cains and Abels and their brood;
I await no pardon.
Yet, it's much to have loved, to have known true joy,
To have had — if only for just one day —The experience of touching the living Garden.
Translated by Genia Gurarie, 4.1.
retained by Genia Gurarie.email: permission to reproduce, write personally to the translator.
