Photo by Claudet Monet Saint Lazare Station, The Western Region Goods Sheds
ITHACA POEM
ANG ORAS NG AWA
Madalas kong iniisip na masosolusyunan ng ganito:
tulad ng mga taong nagtitipon-tipon sa gabi sa may himpilan
para sa huling byahe ng bus na hindi na darating pa,
Sa una kakaunti lamang, maya-maya pa’y parami ng parami.
Yon ang pagkakataong maging malapit sa isa’t-isa,
upang baguhin ang lahat, na magkakasama,
upang magpasimula ng bagong daigdaig.
Subalit sila’y naghiwahiwalay.
(Ang oras ng awa ay dumaan na. Hindi na ito
muling magbabalik.) Bawat isa ay magtutungo sa kani-kaniyang landas.
Bawat isa ay muling magiging domino
na may isang bahagi, naghahanap
sa isa pang piraso upang tumugma ito
sa mga larong nagpapatuloy.
YEHUDI AMIHAI (Israel, 1924–2000)
Translations in Filipino by Eden Soriano Trinidad- Philippines
THE HOUR OF GRACE
I used to think it could be solved this way:
like people gathering in the station at midnight
for the last bus that will not come,
at first just a few, then more and more.
That was a chance to be close to one another,
to change everything, together
to start a new world.
But they disperse.
(The hour of grace has passed. It won‘t
come again.) Each one will go his own way.
Each will be a domino again
with one side up, looking
for another piece to match it
in games that go on and on.
YEHUDI AMIHAI (Israel, 1924–2000)
Translation in English Germain Droogenbroodt, Belgium- Spain
