SOME OF MY POEMS
© Guido Pagliarino
MY FRIEND This poem is included in the book/ebook "My Friend", a compilation of poems - Questa poesia č compresa nel libro e nell'e-book "My Friend", silloge di poesie
A poem in English language by Guido Pagliarino in imitation of his hendecasyllabic poem
in Italian language.
The author thanks C Therese for her precious suggestions during this translation from Italian into English
LOOK FOR A DIFFERENT TRANSLATION OF THIS ITALIAN POEM:
FATHER CHARLES JEGGE, TRAPPIST MONK AND HERMIT IN “PRIETTO MONASTICO DI INDIRITTO (TORINO)” – “MONASTIC PRIETTO IN INDIRITTO (TURIN)" - † oct. 31, 1995
I still feel You exhorting me: "Search!"
and happily manifest our great God's Beauty,
the sweet and absolute Beauty of God
the wonderfully good Creator of Poetry.
"Search always for beauty, in arts and stars
you'll find His Divine image;
watch the dawn: its saying: 'He has risen
for every man, and He rises forever';
watch the sunset. It leads you to the immense
shining firmament: an overflow of harmony.
More sweet to me was tasting this beauty,
the sense of life was more, more clear!
"A oneness that is not, oh! never, shared:
Heaven and earth are forever eternal spouses,
a union of the spirit and the flesh
that's the same Heart of God's eternity".
I met you by God's Grace and recognized,
in a short time, myself as a Christian;
and finally I knew sweet, true friendship.
My heart now remembers a lot
of things... once - I remember - smiling
as you told me:
"Friendships are very difficult for monks...
Sometimes I suffer, because I think that
my laborious life as a hermit
can give pain to your friend's heart;
and sometimes I cannot smile, when
smiling hampers the trappist's choice to glorify
Our Lord". But I did not suffer grief
from You, my dear saintly friend in Heaven,
I remember Your peace and Your gentle smile
always; and still more when You were ready to
leave - Your last journey - towards Paradise.
Sometimes, the greatest friendships love the hush:
since one year You felt Yourself ascending
to the apex, soon to take Flight, and that
idea was warming Your heart; instead,
I confined that sad idea into
the bottom of my mind; when You were close
to entering the Glory of Beauty,
although You were exhausted, You rose
to greet us, Your very grieved friends:
it was thy last charity towards thy neighbor.
How much powerful Your prayer is now,
in Communion with Jesus Christ, The Son!
And Your Friendship floods the whole world.
If suffering exists here, You give thousands
and thousands of Heavenly signs restoring bodies
to health and raising spirits to the Infinite,
how many know that You have Peace in God?
"Resting in Peace and Love is our purpose".
A stone built chapel rests at "Prietto"
where long ago the sheep-fold was one:
grass between stones, aged walls now ruined,
You, prayer after prayer, invigorated
by God, by Your hands make it sacred
At the center, the Altar: a rocky slab
lain over a polished heap of stones
between two columns erected with pebbles
to support the rocky vault of the chapel:
some wooden benches for dear friends
and, within one wall, The Blessed Sacrament;
near that wall, a wooden sculpture of
the Christ Child, very simple, touches believers.
Surely the Cave of the Nativity was similar.
Entering into the hermitage, the world
changes: its something that lights the spirit
and cannot be expressed with words.
Outside, an ancient village lives, like many
others of our mountains: in the winter
it lies between bare yellowed icy pastures;
but going into the hermitage - just a few steps -
the roses are in flower in November, still,
blanketed, at times, from the first winter snow,
and in December, already the cowslips
sprout. Signs?! "So its for believers only,
but it is silent to people who believe
nothing. It is well therefore! To every-
one, God gives "each his own measure";
Guido, write down: he who looks for Truth and
is not a believer, raises up the Cross".
Sometimes a tree stump, or bark, or
contours of flowers in a meadow were enough
to give You ideas of new works of art:
"Is this not the image of the Divine Face
of Christ? Observe, does this not seem to you
Mary, Our Lady, wrapped in her mantle?".
Still I feel You while You exhort me: "Search
the Beauty: it's noble joy, it is Communion
with the Verity of finding again beauty's
shape, even if only in human form".
Here before me - Your recent gifts -
a wooden Madonna and an iron Jesus:
our Christ upon an imaginary cross
because "the Cross is our world"; they are
Your last gifts: You presented them to me
just before Your final, sublime Journey.
Óra et labňra. (*) Now, Your hermitage
is wholly silent. You told me: Here I am, alone,
without companions; I have no disciple;
but what is important, my friend? The grain of wheat,
perhaps, does not have to go into the earth?!
(*) Benedictine’s maxim in Latin : Pray and work!