Riņķojiet, īsās dienas
Pļavā aiz alkšņu sienas

Verieties debespuses
Malieties, aizsaules krusas

Liecieties, zilie gaisi
Pār miroņa kluso maizi

Velieties, lepnās miglas
Bučojiet gaišos stiklus

Lēkājiet, zaķi, pa sniegu
(Nošauts, vairs neaizmiegu)

Uldis Bērziņš
1979

Priecīgus Saulgriežus novēl Tarmo the Nordic {sic} a.k.a. Gelge W. Twigg {sic} a.k.a. El Subcommandante {sic} a.k.a. You Heathen Rabbi {sic}

Un priecigus Saulgriezus ari Jums, Juri par jauko
dzejoli un apsveikumu.
Dzejnieki tiesam var mums runat no dveseles ko praktiska dzive mums neatlauj. Lasot dzejas kadas U. Berzins sarakstija pacel mus ara no ikdienas un savieno musu juta, domas, savu dveseli ar kautko ilgojosu bet vel nepieejamu. Tomer mes jutam kad musu dzive ir vairak nozimes kadu mes katru dienu izjutam. Tas pateicoties dzejniekiem. Vini atgadina mums caur vinu vardiem to ko pasi nespejam izteigt, bet tomer izjutam.
Seskis to loti jauki izteica religiska “diega”.

Svētku vecīt, ko tu kasies,
Atdod dāvānas un lasies!

The Burning Babe
Robert Southwell

As I in hoary winter’s night stood shivering in the snow,
Surprised I was with sudden heat which made my heart to glow;
And lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near,
A pretty babe all burning bright did in the air appear;
Who, scorchëd with excessive heat, such floods of tears did shed
As though his floods should quench his flames which with his tears were fed.
Alas, quoth he, but newly born in fiery heats I fry,
Yet none approach to warm their hearts or feel my fire but I!
My faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns,
Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke, the ashes shame and scorns;
The fuel justice layeth on, and mercy blows the coals,
The metal in this furnace wrought are men’s defilëd souls,
For which, as now on fire I am to work them to their good,
So will I melt into a bath to wash them in my blood.
With this he vanished out of sight and swiftly shrunk away,
And straight I callëd unto mind that it was Christmas day.

{From St. Peter’s Complaint, 1595}

Priecīgus svētkus visiem LOL-a dalībniekiem!

/P

It is the condensed version of the Prince Andrei death scene in Tolstoy, no?

Crudely --

A VIEW OF ETERNITY

Run in circles, brief days
In the meadow behind a wall of alders

Open up, heavens
Hailstones of the afterlife, grind

Bend down, blue skies
Over the silent bread of the dead

Roll in, proud fogs
Kiss the bright glass

Leap, rabbits, through the snow
(Shot, I no longer fall asleep)

.

Uldis Bērziņš
1979

I thank ‘Tarmo’ for the Uldis Berzins!  Always a pleasure!  And Peteris, for that oh so, poignant and beautiful, ‘The Burning Babe’-- and...for the translation.

Prieka!

Irena