TO THE MOUNTAIN
by: Mariano Brull (1891-1956)
 UST
as soon as Mass is over,
- Put our pious airs away;
- And with luncheon in our baskets,
- To the mountain! To the mountain!
- To the mountain for the day!
-
- Hark, the bells of glory ringing
- From the belfries of the Spring!--
- Sun and sky! -- oh, what a blessing
- After gloomy days, they bring!
-
- How the water o'er the mill-wheel
- Rumbles furious and fast,
- Bursting through a thousand echoes
- Until -- there -- 'tis gone at last!
-
- For the woods our hearts are hungry;
- Every bird hears us reply;
- Incense seems to sweep our bosoms--
- To the mountain! To the mountain!
- To the mountain, let us hie!
-
- Every grotto holds a secret;
- Every cleft its creed and rite;
- On the slopes is scattered grandeur--
- Hawthorn flowers and crags in sight!
-
- On the peaks the wind is hymning,--
- Heaven is nigh -- the town, far down;
- Ah, why should not human dwellings
- All the free-world mountains crown?--
-
- At the nightfall -- with our baskets
- Empty -- to the town we haste;
- All the mountains fill with shadows,--
- Spirits of the dreaded waste!--
--Translated by Roderick Gill
|
"To the Mountain" is reprinted
from Hispanic Anthology: Poems Translated from the Spanish
by English and North American Poets. Ed. Thomas Walsh. New
York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1920. |
MORE
POEMS BY MARIANO BRULL |
|
