J.M. Plunkett: Arbor Vitae

Az aranykapu mellett n� egy fa,

Gy�m�lcsei mutatj�k a Csod�t,

Levelei az elhagyatotts�g

Napjai -- s haldokl�s �jszak�ja.

Gy�m�lcs�rt ny�lik r�gye s vir�ga,

Gy�ker�t-t�rzs�t hal�l fogja �t,

Nem b�rja a kiontott v�r s�ly�t,

A f�ldre hajol csatakos �ga.

De n�zd a gy�m�lcs�t! �ze-sz�ne

Jobb, mint a bor -- vagy j�kor j�tt hal�l,

Mikor el�g a gy�szb�l, s n�zd, a v�r

Ott ragyog! Szeretve, l�legezve

H�ti �g� sz�v�nk, hol megtal�l

Minket a Dal, s a Szeretet f�nye.

Arbor Vitae

Beside the golden gate there grows a tree
Whose heavy fruit gives entrance to the ways
Of Wonder, and the leaves thereof are days
Of desolation -- nights of agony
The buds and blossom for the fruits to be:
Rooted in terror the dead trunk decays,
The burdened branches drooping to the clays
Clammy with blood of crushed humanity.

But lo the fruit! Sweet-bitter, red and white,
Better than wine -- better than timely death
When surfeited with sorrow -- Lo the bright
Mansions beyond the gate! And Love, thy breath
Fanning our flaming hearts where entereth
Thy Song of Songs with Love's tumultuous light.