O you tender ones, walk now and then
into the breath that blows coldly past,
Upon your cheeks let it tremble and part;
behind you it will tremble together again.
O you blessed ones, you who are whole,
you who seem the beginning of hearts,
bows for the arrows and arrows' targets--
tear-bright, your lips more eternally smile.
Don't be afraid to suffer; return
that heaviness to the earth's own weight;
heavy are the mountains, heavy the seas.
Even the small trees you planted as children
have long since become too heavy; you could not
carry them now. But the winds...But the spaces....
Translated by Stephen Mitchell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem