Beyond Land and Time

Nine Swans

(Hāns)

Translated by Chidananda Das Gupta

I see nine swans in the water

Soft as the olive leaf, every morning

Three times three makes nine by logic

But these become nine by some sheer magic.

The river is deep, fathomless

The light white cloud dips into it

And dives down and further down

And yet does not reach the end of time.

On all sides the tall grass spreads a soft bed

Still autumn waters have become the blue sky

The flock of swans has merged into the soft afternoon light

Far in the lap of some pale woman;

The colour of puffed rice flows from the basket−

Suddenly the river becomes a river

I remember the nine swans.