the shores of the great silence

.

Is my soul asleep?

Have those beehives that work

in the night stopped? And the water-

wheel of thought, is it

going around now, cups

empty, carrying only shadows?

No, my soul is not asleep.

It is awake, wide awake.

It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches,

its eyes wide open

far-off things, listens

at the shores of the great silence.

~ Antonio Machado, (1875-1935)

(also known as Antonio Cipriano José María y Francisco de Santa Ana Machado y Ruiz)

Robert Bly translation

.photo by Julius Shulman

a marvelous illusion

.

Last night as I was sleeping I dreamt a marvelous illusion
that there was a spring breaking out in my heart.
I said, "Along what secret aqueduct are you coming to me
Oh water, water of a new life that I have never drunk."

Last night as I was sleeping I dreamt a marvelous illusion
that there was a beehive here in my heart.
And the golden bees were making white combs
and sweet honey from my old failures.

Last night as I was sleeping I dreamt a marvelous illusion
that there was a fiery sun here in my heart.
It was fiery because it gave warmth as if from a hearth
And it was sun because it gave light and brought tears to my eyes.

Last night as I was sleeping I dreamt a marvelous illusion
that there was God here in my heart.

God, is my soul asleep?
Have those beehives who labor by night stopped, and
the water wheel of thought, is it dry?
The cup's empty, wheeling out carrying only shadows?
No! My soul is not asleep! My soul is not asleep!
It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches, its clear eyes open,
far off things, and listens, and listens
at the shores of the great silence.
It listens at the shores of the great silence.





~ Antonio Machado
from The Winged Energy of Delight, 

translation by Robert Bly

.art by Van Gogh

foam trails on the sea

Walker, your footsteps 

are the road, and nothing more.

Walker, there is no road, 

the road is made by walking.

Walking you make the road,

and turning to look behind 

you see the path you never 

again will step upon.

Walker, there is no road, 

only foam trails on the sea.

~ Antonio Machado

from proverbs and songs #29

translation by Willis Barnstone

only foam trails on the sea

.

.

Walker, your footsteps

are the road, and nothing more.

Walker, there is no road,

the road is made by walking.

Walking you make the road,

and turning to look behind

you see the path you never

again will step upon.

Walker, there is no road,

only foam trails on the sea.

.

~ Antonio Machado

(Border of a Dream: Selected Poems, translated by Willis Barnstone)

.

The wind, one brilliant day

.

.

The wind, one brilliant day, called 

to my soul with an odor of jasmine.

.

"In return for the odor of my jasmine, 

I'd like all the odor of your roses."

.

"I have no roses; all the flowers 

in my garden are dead." 

.

"Well then, I'll take the withered petals 

and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain."

.

The wind left. And I wept. And I said 

"What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you ?"

.

~ Antonio Machado

(translated by Robert Bly)

.