The world as we imagine it
the magnificent cause
of being
not simply
seeming to be
Constructs of the heart
a sentimental imagination
all that ties people together
feeling our way through life
in the knowledge
that darkness fades
with the light
that love is the one true
illumination
John Lyons
A mind of winter
snow on the roofs
on the window ledges
on stretches of grass
Inside a satellite dish a bird
sheltering from the wind
December fading
into the new year
the purity
of the silence
reaffirmation
of the world’s innocence
John Lyons
I’m in a place
where nobody understands me
where I don’t speak the language
and cannot read the script
The temperature is low
close to freezing
and it might snow later
I’m in a place of history
where many things are new
and many things are old
I’m in a place of learning
and I have so much to learn
I’m in a place
John Lyons
Beneath the pomp and circumstance
there is the body and the soul
and the Christmas market at Schönbrunn
that feeds both the body and the soul
So the rain falls upon us incessantly
as we do the rounds and feed ourselves
on bread and cheese and sip mulled wine
Conversation is the thing
meeting a friend and exchanging time
and the warmth of human words
Here in the courtyard of the Kaiser’s
summer palace where it is winter
and the solstice a day old
and Christmas Eve almost upon us
we celebrate the civility
of our common language
There are baubles to hang on trees
and tiny sculptures of the nativity
but what is being born is the moment
in which we live the moment
in which we love : the precious moments
in which we are pleased to draw breath
John Lyons
Somewhere in the Milky Way
it’s not raining
there are blue skies and
people are going about
their business
with broad smiles
and a spring
in their step
As evening falls
lovers stand
below a full moon
bathing in its light
Somewhere in the Milky Way
there’s a world
free from discord
a world of peace and love
a world where you might
want to be forever
call it heaven
call it what you will
it exists somewhere
in the Milky Way
John Lyons
Sonnet 2
And it was almost a girl that emerged
from that happy coincidence of song and lyre
who shone clearly through her spring veil
and laid herself down to rest in my ear.
And she slept within me. And her sleep was all.
All the trees I’ve ever admired, those
palpable distances, those meadows known to me
and every moment that ever astounded me.
She slept the world. O God of song how did you
arrange that she should have no desire,
to be woken first? See, how she rose and slept.
Where is her death? O will you continue to invoke
this motif before your song is done? –
Where does it fade to within me? … Almost a girl …
Rainer Maria Rilke
(translation by John Lyons)
Und fast ein Mädchen war’s und ging hervor
aus diesem einigen Glück von Sang und Leier
und glänzte klar durch ihre Frühlingsschleier
und machte sich ein Bett in meinem Ohr.
Und schlief in mir. Und alles war ihr Schlaf.
Die Bäume, die ich je bewundert, diese
fühlbare Ferne, die gefühlte Wiese
und jedes Staunen, das mich selbst betraf.
Sie schlief die Welt. Singender Gott, wie hast
du sie vollendet, dass sie nicht begehrte,
erst wach zu sein? Sieh, sie erstand und schlief.
Wo ist ihr Tod? O, wirst du dies Motiv
erfinden noch, eh sich dein Lied verzehrte? —
Wo sinkt sie hin aus mir?… Ein Mädchen fast ….
Bald die ersten Blütenblätter
auf dem Kirschbaum
bald die ersten Blätter
entspringen aus den Knospen
bald das neue Jahr
mit all seiner Möglichkeit für uns
die alten Fehler nie zu wiederholen
Niemals die Liebe aufgeben
deren wir niemals müde werden
die niemals alt wird
Der Winter hat seine besondere
frostige Stille
das knackige Geräusch
von Vogelgezwitscher
Die Straßen manchmal
mit Eis glasiert
Wärme ist eine
Herzensangelegenheit
Kein Mann, keine Frau
kann ohne Liebe leben:
bald die ersten Blütenblätter
Vorboten der ersten Frucht
John Lyons
My own translation of yesterday’s poem
Soon the first petals
on the cherry
soon the first leaves
springing
from the buds
soon the new year
with all its opportunity
for us never to repeat
the old errors
never to relinquish
the love of which
we never tire
that never
grows old
The winter has its special
frosty silence
the crisp sound
of birdsong
the streets at times
glazed with ice
Warmth is a thing
of the heart
no man no woman
can live
without love :
soon the first petals
harbingers
of the first fruit
John Lyons
Eight magpies and one fox
the birds have assumed
military positions
they will not be intimidated
the fox stares at them
he will not be intimidated
Perhaps he admires their plump
black and white bodies
perhaps they admire
his lush russet fur
The fox is surrounded
but perhaps he is enjoying
being the centre of attention
he has nothing to fear
the birds have nothing to fear
It’s just a moment
in which neither side
wishes to back down
but it will soon pass
it soon did
John Lyons
Of all that passing life
what remains
is what’s known
in the memory : a river
in County Waterford
flows through my mind
the heathered bank where I stood
with my cousin Paul
under the summer sun
so we cast our hooks
and watched as they drifted
downstream
that youthful day the trout
were too shy
or too cunning
and they avoided our bait
and so we returned home
empty-handed
but Paul
who has passed
along with that day
lives in the memory
and I am always
who I was
going to be
just now
johnjosephlyons 