To the Tune of a Song Not Yet Written [4]
I walk up my own street after sunset.
The moon is not yet up and the last streetlight
is behind me. Slowly, slowly I trudge up the hill
and slowly, slowly my shadow fades into the dark bricks.
I have lost myself and where I am going
but with no streetlights the roof has been taken off
the world. If I stood still I could find and count a star
for each of the eighteen thousand days I have lived so far.
Here in the dark stretch of street they are with me.
With my shadow gone and the dark bricks
pretending not to move at the speed of stars.
Translations from the English 
Always stellar, Jeff. Truly wonderful.
Thanks Ann!
Just spectacular, Jeff. According to the clues you gave, you must be a tad on either side of 50. Sheesh, you’re just a kid! I have jockey shorts older than you are!
(Sidenote: I worked for a short time as lecturer, telescope operator , and tour guide for Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff, Arizona; have built two or three large telescopes, and have been an amateur astronomer for over sixty years. And I LOVE your poem!!)
Thanks Ron! Scary details about jockey shorts aside, that’s fascinating stuff about your experience with telescopes and astronomy. There must have been something really satisfying about being involved in the construction of an object that brings the sky closer.
You just took me back to one of my favorite places on earth, Flagstaff Arizona where streetlights are outlawed and the stars are so breathtakingly numerous and close. Also, the strength of the line “but with no streetlights the roof has been taken off / the world…” evokes for me the strength of Masahide’s “barn’s burned down / now I can see the moon”. Beautiful!
Thanks SJ! Wow, those lines from Masahide are great. I have read several different translations of that poem but I think the lines as you quote them are my favorite.
SJ, I share your love for Flagstaff, AZ, especially for Lowell Observatory where I was privileged to work a few years ago. What a glorious place!
Jeff, SJ’s comment has reminded me of Robert Frost’s poem “The Star-Splitter” which I’m sure you have read. If not, now’s the time!
Yes.
Thanks, Dana. Sometime’s a word’s worth a thousand words.
“With my shadow gone and the dark bricks/pretending not to move at the speed of stars.” Wonderful poem, Jeff! Sharing it on Facebook.
Thank you, sir. I hope mid-autumn is treating you well.
We avoided the Buffalo burial (almost no snow), but tomorrow the weather punishes us for our smugness.
Yep, we’re down for five inches or so ourselves in the Book of Snow.