I'm Brahman
I'm Brahman. In the house we have no maid.
At home I do the only thing I can:
I throw away my bath water and fill the jug;
I take no towel; and I always spill.
She tells me these are no a husband's chores.
I do feel helpless and reproach myself
When she is spoiling my impracticability
-- ingrained -- with the magic of her cookery.
And ever do I worship Him who manifests
himself as a magic show of cosmos, art and
science:
When she is handing me my plate of
porridge,
-- I notice how her fingertips are chapped --
I'm burning with a single adoration for
Sun, Bach, Kant; and those calloused hands
of hers.
Johan Andreas Der Mouw (1863-1919)
translated from Dutch by Victor van Bijlert
1 comment:
I just came across this poem which my teacher has translated few years ago. I didn't know about der Mouw, he seems to have been a nice guy with disdain for philosophers who attempted to systematise what for him were "indefinable moods" as found in the Upanishads. I just loved the message of this poem.
Simple life, inadequacy, beauty-in-ugliness, love, and divine show at the same time. Excellent.
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