吾は海や川の上空にて雲となりぬ
求める花々に潤いを与え
白昼夢のなかで眠る
木の葉を吾が影で包めば
吾の翼からは雫が落ち
蕾たちの一つひとつ潤せり
守りたる草は陽光に踊り
その胸に抱かれてゆれる蕾たち
吾は霰となりて大地を撃つ
草原を真白に染め
再び雨雲なりて
そして雷となり鳴動せし
空下の山々に雪を振り蒔き
松木は仰天の唸り声を発するに
この雪を枕に 一夜の床
疾風に抱かれて眠りたもう
天蓋の頂には 吾が水先案内
厳かに佇む稲妻
下方の洞窟にて雷鳴が
高らかに響き始め
おおらかにて大地や大海を越え
稲妻が吾を導いていく
濃紫の海に潜む守護神の
愛の力に魅かれ
小川や岩や丘を越え
湖や草原を越え
稲妻の道筋に 山にも川にも
光跡を残せり
吾は微笑む青空に横たわり
稲妻は消え雨となりぬ
天空の瞳を持つ元気な朝陽が
輝く光の翼
を広げ
千切れ雲の上に跳ねれば
光失う明けの明星
岩山の絶壁の角が
揺れる大地とともに震え
そこに一羽の鷹が翼を休めり
金色の朝陽に包まれつつ
そして夕陽が 灼熱色に染まりて
海の休息と愛に迎えられ
夕闇の深紅の帳が
空の高みから降ろされるとき
吾も翼を畳んで休息す
鳩の雛の如く静かに
白い光に包まれた天球の乙女
呼ばれて月
羊毛のような吾の上で仄かに光り
深夜のそよ風に吹かれておりぬ
彼女の歩みに足跡見えず
天使のみが足音を聴く
吾の欠片が彼女に踏まれ穴ができれば
その向こうから星々が姿を現す
黄色い蜜蜂の群れの如くに
星々が騒ぐのを見て吾は笑う
そしてその穴をもっと開け広げ
小川や湖や海の上に
まるで空の画面の一部が剥がれ落ちたかの如くに
月と星たちとを映し出していく
太陽のために燃えるような雲で王冠を作れり
月のためには千切れ雲で真珠の髪飾りを作れり
火山は霞み星たちは揺らめき
一陣の旋風が吾の旗を巻き上げるとき
逆巻く海の上を 岬から岬へ
弓の形の如くなりて
陽光に逆らい 山々を柱とし
吾は屋根のように覆い被さる
吾が行進する凱旋門には
嵐と火と雪が舞い飛び交う
吾と繋がりし天空の霊気が
色とりどりの虹を織りなす
天上では太陽が柔らかい光を発し
地上では大地が高笑いする
吾は大地と海の娘
天空の子どもであり
吾は海と陸の裂け目を通り
姿は時とともに変容するが決して滅びることはなく
雨が終わった後に
天空が曇りなく晴れ渡り
風と陽の光が突き上げ輝き
蒼穹を築き上げるとき
吾は静かに微笑みつつ
子どもが子宮から 幽霊が草場から出る如く
溜まった雨の谷間から湧き上がり
ふたたび世界を覆う
（意訳：mardidupin）
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
I sift the snow on the mountains below,
And their great pines groan aghast;
And all the night 'tis my pillow white,
While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skyey bowers,
Lightning, my pilot, sits;
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,
It struggles and howls at fits;
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,
Lured by the love of the genii that move
In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
Over the lakes and the plains,
Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
The Spirit he loves remains;
And I all the while bask in Heaven's blue smile,
Whilst he is dissolving in rains.
The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
When the morning star shines dead;
As on the jag of a mountain crag,
Which an earthquake
rocks and swings,
An eagle alit one moment may sit
In the light of its golden wings.
And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
Its ardors of rest and of love,
And the crimson pall of eve may fall
From the depth of Heaven above,
With wings folded I rest, on mine aery nest,
As still as a brooding dove.
That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the Moon,
Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn;
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
Which only the angels hear,
May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof,
The stars peep behind her and peer;
And I laugh to see them
whirl and flee,
Like a swarm of golden bees,
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
Are each paved with the moon and these.
I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone,
And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl;
The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim
When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
Over a torrent sea,
Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof,--
The mountains its columns be.
The triumphal arch through which I march
With hurricane, fire, and snow,
When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,
Is the million-colored bow;
The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove,
While the moist Earth was laughing below.
I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.
（Percy B Shelley）
画像：原画
BIackMagicさん
