Once, when returning from far Transylvania <br />Through mountain forests, rocks, and Carpathian ridges, <br />Halting by a ford at the close of day <br />(My companions had sent me ahead to look <br />For passage), I let my horse graze <br />And out of the saddlebag took the Holy Scripture; <br />The light was so gracious, murmur of streams so sweet, <br />That reading Paul's epistles, and seeing the first star, <br />I was soon lulled into a profound sleep. <br /> <br />A young man in ornate Greek raiment <br />Touched my arm and I heard his voice: <br />'Your time, O mortals, hastens by like water, <br />I have descended and known its absyss. <br />It was I, whom cruel Paul chastised in Corinth <br />For having stolen my father's wife, <br />And by his order I was to be excluded <br />From the table at which we shared our meals. <br />Since then I have not been in gatherings of the saints, <br />And for many years I was led by the sinful love <br />Of a poor plaything given to temptation, <br />And so we doomed ourselves to eternal ruin. <br />But my Lord and my God, whom I knew not, <br />Tore me from the ashes with his lightning, <br />In his eyes your truths count for nothing, <br />His mercy saves all living flesh.' <br /> <br />Awake under a huge starry sky, <br />Having received help unhoped for, <br />Absolved of care about our platry life, <br />I wiped my eyes wet with tears. <br /> <br />No, I have never been to Transylvania. <br />I have never brought messages from there to my church. <br />But I could have. <br />This is an exercise in style. <br />The pluperfect tense <br />Of countries imperfective.<br /><br />Czeslaw Milosz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/where-the-sun-rises-and-where-it-sets/
