Translation from The Book of the Dead

     A crane flew over the cliff
     the hawk watched
     the sand looked like a sea.

     The man held a stick
     the bird was under a cloud
     feathers fell from the sky.

     A snake moved quickly
     across the sand where
     feathers drifted to rest.

     Under the cloud, the bird
     surrendered though the man
     begged god on bent knees.

     The horizon remained flat blue;
     summer became what it must,
     god's profile never wavered.

     At harvest, between narrow trees
     where a river ran, a boat sailed,
     the sun pierced by its mast.

     The hawk waited, the man prayed,
     the flat sky hovered above
     unmarked drifts of sand.


     Helen Ruggieri
 	

     
     *         *          *
        

     about the poem:

     "The poem grew out of a poetry exercise I gave to my students-- 
     a page of hieroglyphics from 'The Book of the Dead.'  I looked at 
     the symbols and tried to do an honest rendition.  The poem took off 
     on its own."



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