Porni luceafarul.Cresteau
In cer a lui aripe,
Si cai de mii de ani treceau
In tot atitea clipe.

Un cer de stele dedesupt,
Deasupra-i cer de stele-
Parea un fulger nentrerupt
Ratacitor prin ele.

Si din a chaosului vai,
Jur imprejur de sine,
Vedea ca-n ziua cea dentii,
Cum izvorau lumine;

Cum izvorind il inconjor
Ca niste mari de-a-notul...
El zboara, gand purtat de dor,
Pan' piere totul, totul;

Caci unde-ajunge nu-i hotar,
Nici ochi spre a cunoaste,
Si vremea-ncearca in zadar
Din goluri a se naste.

Nu e nimic si totusi e
O sete care-l soarbe,
E un adinc asemene
Uitarii celei oarbe.

-De greul negrei vecinicii,
Parinte, ma dezleaga
Si laudat pe veci sa fii
Pe-a lumii scara-ntreaga;

O, cere-mi, Doamne, orice pret,
Dar da-mi o alta soarte,
Caci tu izvor esti de vieti
Si datator de moarte;

Reia-mi al nemuririi nimb
Si focul din privire,
Si pentru toate da-mi in schimb
O ora de iubire...

Din chaos, Doamne,-am aparut
Si m-as intoarce-n chaos...
Si din repaos m-am nascut'
Mi-e sete de repaos.

-Hyperion, ce din genuni
Rasai c-o-ntreaga lume,
Nu cere semne si minuni
Care n-au chip si nume;

Tu vrei un om sa te socoti,
Cu ei sa te asameni?
Dar piara oamenii cu toti,
S-ar naste iarasi oameni.

Ei numai doar dureaza-n vint
Desarte idealuri-
Cand valuri afla un mormint,
Rasar in urma valuri;

Ei doar au stele cu noroc
Si prigoniri de soarte,
Noi nu avem nici timp, nici loc,
Si nu cunoastem moarte.

Din sinul vecinicului ieri
Traieste azi ce moare,
Un soare de s-ar stinge-n cer
S-aprinde iarasi soare;

Parand in veci a rasari,
Din urma moartea-l paste,
Caci toti se nasc spre a muri
Si mor spre a se naste.

Iar tu, Hyperion, ramai
Oriunde ai apune...
Cere-mi cuvantul meu dentai-
Sa-ti dau intelepciune?

Vrei sa dau glas acelei guri,
Ca dup-a ei cantare
Sa se ia muntii cu paduri
Si insulele-n mare?

Vrei poate-n fapta sa arati
Dreptate si tarie?
Ti-as da pamantul in bucati
Sa-l faci imparatie.

Iti dau catarg linga catarg,
Ostiri spre a strabate
Pamantu-n lung si marea-n larg,
Dar moartea nu se poate...

Si pentru cine vrei sa mori?
Intoarce-te, te-ndreapta
Spre-acel pamant ratacitor
Si vezi ce te asteapta.

So left the Evening Star. His wings
Grew large across the sky
As thousand years of reach would spring
And at a wink go by;

A canopy of stars below,
Above, a starry dome:
An endless lightning seemed to flow
And through the heavens roam

And in the dark that streamed around,
As on the first day's morn,
He glimpsed the chaos vales unbound
From where the light is born.

He flies aswim through seas of light
With love on wings of thought ...
Until all perishes from sight,
Until all turns to naught;

He goes where there's no bound or bourn
Nor is there eye to know,
And time itself from voids uptorn
Struggles in vain to grow;

For there is naught, yet it is there
A thirst that draws him on,
A depth that lingers, like the snare
Of blind oblivion...

"Father, from dark eternity
My burden now reverse
And your name ever hallowed be
In all the universe!

Ask me, Lord, anything, but give
Me fate of different breath,
For you're the spring of lives to live,
And giver are of death;

Immortal nimbus overturn,
From eyes remove the fire,
But for all give me in return
One hour of desire ...

From chaos, Lord, I came alive,
My thirst to chaos goes
And, of repose once born, I strive
To go back to repose!"

"Hyperion, you out of chasm
Arise with worlds of grace!
Ask not for wonder or phantasm
That has no name or face;

To be a human is your call?
A man, is that your mind?
Oh, let the humans perish all,
Others would breed in kind.

Men only build to nothingness
Vain dreams in noble guise:
When waves to silent tomb quiesce
New waves again will rise;

Men merely live by stars of luck
And star-crossed fatefulness;
We have no death to prove our pluck
Nor place or time possess.

From the eternal yesterday
Today lives what will die,
Should sun from heavens once decay
New suns would light the sky

And seem to rise to endless morn
While death in wait would lie,
For all die only to be born
And all are born to die.

But you, Hyperion, shall live
Wherever you may set ...
So ask me now the Word to give:
That you can wisdom get?

Or, maybe, give you voice and bring
Sweet music to your song
So forests in the mountain sing
And oceans go along?

Perhaps you justice wish to make?
Your strength with deeds to prove?
The earth in pieces I could break
So you can kingdoms move!

I'll give you armies march their stride
To steal the world its breath,
Long ships upon seas far and wide ...
But I won't give you death!

And who to die for, now behold!
Of what awaits, beware!
Go back and watch that wand'ring mould
And heed to what lies there."

Hyperion flies on, his great wings,
opening to the heavens, grow
wider as he beats the air, road
infinite as time, below

him an infinite depth of stars,
above him the stars of heaven,
as he moves an formless flash
of lightning wanders through them.

As he goes through the valleys of Chaos
he sees about him a great ring
of lights, shining as they did once
on the world’s first day, springs

bursting from their Source, but now
on a fioodtide, threatening,
as he hurries on, the impetus
of desire still urging him

on, though that Region has no frontier,
nor eyes to know it,
a place where Time struggles to be born
out of the void.

There is nothing and yet there is
a thirst which consumes him,
absorbs him utterly, an abyss like
blind oblivion.

“Father, free me from the dark
mantle of eternity,
Father be praised in this and ever
but set me free.

Ask for anything You feel
is a price that I must pay
to be rid, Lord of Life and Death,
of my old, useless ways.

Take back again unlimited
Time, put out the fierce fires
that burn me endlessly, let me love
a human being for an hour!

I have come from Chaos, and
back there again I’d go.
Brought back again to life from rest,
rest again I must have now.

“Hyperion, from the depths you rise
a whole world in your train;
don’t ask for signs or miracles,
formless, from me.

You want to be like Man,
to be the same as men,
yet if all men were to die
they would be reborn as men.

Men build palaces of vain ideals
before the high wind:
when waves wash over a tomb
more waves come behind.

Men have only “lucky stars”
emissaries of Fate
but we stars do not live in Time
or Space, or know Death.

All things dying come out of
the eternal yesterday, the provider,
a sky bottomless into which
dead suns drop, making way for further

suns. Death clings to all things,
and all men are born
only to die in due season
and die only to be reborn.

But here you are changeless,
yet would disappear, drop down
into the void — ask me first,
will I give you wisdom.

Would you like a voice
that would so sing
that mountains would follow it,
woods, seas, everything?

Would you like to show strength
and justice by the things
you do? Or the earth in pieces
to be remade with you as king?

I would give you fleets of ships
and armies to carry over the blue
seas to every corner of the world,
but Death I cannot give you.

But for whom would you die —
turn back to that wandering
sphere and look again
to see what is waiting for you.”