Sun, sun, <br />divine Ra-Helios, <br />you delight <br />the hearts of kings and heroes, <br />sacred horses neigh to you, <br />in Heliopolis they sing hymns to you; <br />when you shine, <br />lizards crawl out onto rocks <br />and boys go laughing <br />to swim in the Nile. <br />Sun, sun, <br />I am a pale scribbler, <br />a library recluse, <br />but I love you, sun, no less <br />than a tanned sailor <br />smelling of fish and salt water, <br />and no less <br />than his accustomed heart <br />rejoices <br />at your royal rising <br />from the ocean, <br />my heart trembles, <br />when your dusty, but flaming ray <br />slips <br />through the narrow window by the ceiling <br />onto my filled page <br />and my thin, yellowish hand, <br />writing out in vermilion <br />the first letter of a hymn to you, <br />O Ra-Helios sun!<br /><br />Mikhail Alekseevich Kuzmin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sun-sun/
