translation of a symbolistic (Swedish) poem by Adolf Paul (1863-1943), a German-Swedish-Finnish poet and friend of Sibelius
Beyond the forest where life is so green
and the sun shines so brightly,
a spider sits snugly so black and so huge
in the grass watching out for its prey.
He catches the sunlight and weaves of its rays
a web of invisible darkness
so strong and so light
to be able to catch any soul coming by
to torment it and quease it to death.
And the sun fades, and light is defeated
to go out and vanish engulfed in the night,
people wandering randomly, going astray
searching vainly, pathetically for their souls
which they lost on the way, but they still keep on going,
believing that night is as light as the day
and get frightened, when dawn is returning,
and hide to protect their delusions and dreams
of the freedom they lost and believe they have found
in their escapist substitute make-believes.
But the spider keeps weaving in anger so stern
well aware that a true soul can never get caught
but must wander through history timeless, serene,
always harassed by power authorities pulling him down
by the might of brute fore, violation and blood,
and they all fight against that invisible web
of the obstinate spider of fate of relentlessness
which will eventually bring every single authority down.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 474 times
Written on 2008-02-15 at 10:00
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The black spider of history
Beyond the forest where life is so green
and the sun shines so brightly,
a spider sits snugly so black and so huge
in the grass watching out for its prey.
He catches the sunlight and weaves of its rays
a web of invisible darkness
so strong and so light
to be able to catch any soul coming by
to torment it and quease it to death.
And the sun fades, and light is defeated
to go out and vanish engulfed in the night,
people wandering randomly, going astray
searching vainly, pathetically for their souls
which they lost on the way, but they still keep on going,
believing that night is as light as the day
and get frightened, when dawn is returning,
and hide to protect their delusions and dreams
of the freedom they lost and believe they have found
in their escapist substitute make-believes.
But the spider keeps weaving in anger so stern
well aware that a true soul can never get caught
but must wander through history timeless, serene,
always harassed by power authorities pulling him down
by the might of brute fore, violation and blood,
and they all fight against that invisible web
of the obstinate spider of fate of relentlessness
which will eventually bring every single authority down.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 474 times
Written on 2008-02-15 at 10:00
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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