The Meaning of the Mountain

 

In those solitary evenings

when my soul looks on time

as if the past and future are one,

in the soothing of toil and change,

in the selfhood which looks

for its self which endures,

I look back on the heroes who trod lightly

on the earth of this land

in those forgotten times

when the parchments of time

have become so worn

that the needless adornments have faded

and patterns have remained alone

for remembrance in the future.

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Signs of wisdom sealed the space,

Hidden fire in the lucidity

indelible orbits of love

oppressing our void,

thunderbolts of creation

turning everything upside-down

in the forms  

in a reflection of beauty,

the clash of arms in mythical battles,

which could go no further,

because of the blow of touch.

A light step on the roads of life

and this grace of the spirit

chiselled bodies

so that they would have something of the spirit,

to be a reminder here on earth

of the uncorrupted homeland,

with a fiery imprint on the depths of the unseen,

in the untraced fields of the memory.

For mortals should remember the hand of opportunity

which has remained untouched amongst the worlds.

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But the earth well remembered

the glory which walked

upon its body,

and willed to etch the memory within time

of those who passed over it

laden with gifts,

they broke down its loneliness as they passed heroically

through the gates of mortality

which stood bolt upright.

And if mortals did not see the heavenly gifts,

the earth nevertheless knew in the depths of its soul

and, in the pain of the silence

which remained in the years,

it clutched at a hope of memory

and stirring up the depths

with a cloud of dust spreading to the worlds far off,

it brought forth a mountain seemingly inaccessible

where the gifts of the heavens were concealed from the eyes

which see nothing in the brilliance of the lightning.

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On these unconquered mountain tops

the sunbeams play in their magical dance

on the white veil which humbly hides it -

the earth which has risen up demurely

to hymn the heroes,

and there, in solitude apart from the worlds of life,

a soundless call from the soul of immobility

broke down the walls of inner loneliness

which the thought of man had built

for this prop of life,

on which innumerable temples of the spirit rested,

which, impoverished, attempted to build on earth

a field of beauty where the above and the below

would well unite.

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And the mountain rises up sternly

for those who, in terror, have denied the heights,

nonetheless on the mountain peak the sanctuary was set up

with unsullied veils of the heart

of the beings which longed for that union,

with the castles of estrangement in rubble

on the sheer slopes of the mountain

and the eyes stripped of illusion,

the ears resting in the song of the sunbeams

and the bodies shuddering in an unexpected warmth,

where the earthly temple found its aim.

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(Photograph by Yiannis Zisis)