bourbakiaxiom: (Figure with Scales (1957), by Joy Hester) Our…


(Figure with Scales (1957), by Joy Hester)

Our Life

(by Aspazija; my translation from the Latvian original)

Our life is so brief here,
Like a bird’s rest upon a twig,
A hundred desires of the heart
Rushing to cast each other out.

From backwards looking habits,
The future calls us hence,
Misunderstood, disused,
Away from this troubled present.

It is as if the marsh lights fortune*
Enticingly appears –
As you rush forwards to grasp it
The lights are already shining behind you.

Only that which we have lost,
Do we admit as being precious
And behind the pain, it is for tranquility
We search, along with hope.

As the pages fade to pale
And life’s blossom shrivels
The heart within our breast
Still twitches unhappily.

Up to the unreachable heights
Our ideals lift away –
For us creatures formed from dust
All that remains is struggling after them.


(*Note: “marsh lights’ fortune” refers to the Latvian legend that where
there are “false fires” (Will O’the Wisps) in marshes, one can find

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