I was a distant summer

Here's a translation of one of Dan Pagis' poems, taken from the pictured 1972 collection ...

... I really rate his poetry:


Already

Already I was before I am
forced in a surprised night wind to return
exhausted in dry grass and obeying
the command of a nagging voice.
On the main road bright candles for the dead
told to come :
the house, the strange name lying in wait for me
in these veins of darkness. Closed
between my blood and my blood, in the blind warmth
folded inside me, kicking from within me to leave
the sweet hollow and suddenly cry out
in the air running through the lungs.
Already I am not
(I was a distant summer) and at this moment,
when I must see the other light, I am
that I am. Already
I do not remember.

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Dan Pagis (1930 - 1986)

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