Thomas Merton Poetry 7. Translator. Poem Translation: ‘Memories of the Ancient World’

When we recall Merton’s upbringing in France it occurs to us that he is multi-lingual from an early age. This was to prove an immense gift when he came to write on the spiritual life because he could work across the languages of Christian tradition. He could also therefore translate poetry.

Translation of ancient and modern texts was a job at the monastery. It is quite likely we have not seen all the translations made by Merton. Nor could we identify them, as the productions have been published without ascription.

The following poem expresses certain central concerns in Merton’s work. Peace is upheld. Community is available. You belong in community. The natural world is familiar in shape and colour. The rest of the world exists outside our immediate concerns. We continue to exist happily while the rest of the world continues outside our concerns. We are free to enjoy the sky and the beauty of creation. We are bodily, we breathe in and out. Best to keep minor the things we worry about. It is good to live in expectation of something new, like a letter. There are some rules in life that keep things orderly and meaningful. We don’t wear our best clothes every day, that’s what makes them best. We are reminded and remind ourselves to be grateful. Gratitude extends to things we generally take for granted, like gardens and the future. We live inside time, and even though we seek that which is timeless, and we would be free of time, nothing would make sense without time. We live in the ancient world. Morning is when we wake up.

Memories of the Ancient World

Carlos Drummond de Andrade

Translated from the Portuguese by Thomas Merton

 

Clara walked in the garden with the children.

The sky was green over the grass,

Water ran golden under the bridges

And other elements were blue, or pink, or orange,

The policeman smiled, and bicycles went by

The little girl ran on the grass to catch a bird,

The whole world, Germany and China, all was quiet around Clara.

 

The little ones looked up at the sky: it was not forbidden.

Mouths, nostrils and eyes were wide open: There was no danger.

 

The only dangers Clara feared were influenza, hot weather, insects.

Clara feared to miss the 11 o’clock bus

And hoped for letters that were slow in coming,

She was not always able to wear a new dress.

But she walked in the garden, in the morning!

 

For, in those times, there were gardens, and there were mornings.

 

Sources

Thomas Merton. The collected poems of  Thomas Merton. New Directions, 1977