The Dream | |
As I was slumbering in a secluded place, | |
I will tell it without concealment, | |
I saw at dawn and break of day | |
4 | a dream on the brink of morning. |
I thought I was roaming | |
with a pack of hounds at my hand, | |
walking the regions and lands | |
8 | I knew all day long, |
and that I went down into a forest, | |
fine palace, not like a churlish serf's house. | |
I released the dogs straightaway | |
12 | into the trees, as it seemed to me. |
I was a good huntsman, so I thought, | |
true serious skill. | |
I heard the cries, fierce voices, | |
16 | constant singing, of dogs in pursuit. |
I saw a white hind above fields, | |
I was delighted by the chase, | |
and a pack of hunting dogs in full cry | |
20 | after it, unerring their course. |
The perfectly formed hind made for the hill | |
and went over two ridges and a height | |
and again over the slopes | |
24 | full tilt its course like a stag, |
and came tamely at last | |
to seek sanctuary with me, and I was so excited. | |
Naked nostrils—then I woke up. | |
28 | I was there in the shack, a lustful man. |
As soon as daylight came the next day | |
I went to seek an interpreter nearby. | |
I was fortunate enough to find | |
32 | a righteous old woman when it was day. |
I told her everything I had seen, | |
omen of the night. | |
'By God, wise woman, if you could | |
36 | put an end to this enchantment, |
I would consider none to be your equal, | |
I suffer a hundred pangs, I am without hope.' | |
'O hopeless one, your dream | |
40 | is a good one, if you are a true man: |
the dogs you saw plainly | |
at your hand, if you only knew their pleading language, | |
are your envoys, certain course, | |
44 | your bold love messengers, |
and the white hind is the lady | |
you loved, colour of sunlit foam. | |
It is quite certain that she will come | |
48 | to seek sanctuary with you, and may God bless you.' |