Flüsse der Trauer ~ Rivers of Grief

 

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Phyllida Anam-Airé Song

"By the rivers of grief, by the oceans of pain, by the streams of compassion ..."

By the rivers of grief, by the oceans of pain, by the streams of compassion we will meet again.

When the heart is bruised and there's no relief I will meet you here by the rivers of grief.

By the rivers of grief by this candlelight we will hold each other in this holy night.

When the heart can trust, then the heart can feel, we can let love flow into the rivers of grief.

By the rivers of grief, by the oceans of pain, by the shores of compassion we will meet again.

And our hearts will dance, we will be released, we lay our burdens down by the rivers of PEACE.

                                                                                                                           Phyllida Anam-Airé

 

Übersetzungsmöglichkeit ...

An den Flüssen der Trauer, den Ozeanen der Schmerzen, den Strömen des Mitgefühls werden wir uns wiedersehen.

Wenn das Herz verletzt ist und es keine Befreiung gibt werde ich Dich hier treffen an den Flüssen der Trauer.

An den Flüssen der Trauer, bei diesem Kerzenschein, werden wir einander halten in dieser heiligen Nacht.

Wenn das Herz vertraut dann kann das Herz fühlen, wir können Liebe fließen lassen in die Flüsse der Trauer.

An den Flüssen der Trauer, den Ozeanen der Schmerzen, an den Küsten des Mitgefühls werden wir uns wiedersehen.

Und unsere Herzen werden tanzen, wir werden frei sein, wir legen unsere Last nieder an den Flüssen des FRIEDENS.

 

 

 

I took my grief with me

 

I took my grief with me to the moors

 and together we went for a walk.

 

I twisted it with the heather

and made braids of it,

 I hurled it down a ravine

but we weren’t ready to let go of one another,

 and it came back to me.

 

We sat on my favourite bench

 and looked at the vastness of the horizon together.

 

I sang it lullabies to soothe it,

 and in turn it reminded me that

 I’m allowed to feel my pain.

 

It enjoyed running alongside the

 many dogs we saw on our travels;

it bounded up and down the moors

 like a native thing.

 

It felt sad when the clouds appeared

 and the sun shone less brightly

 and I held it close and comforted it.

 

My grief and I are learning to live together -

 not that we have much choice.

 

We are familiar bedfellows.

 

Although every time she appears it’s in a different aspect:

 sometimes she’s a lost child crying for its mother,

 other times she’s a wild old woman

 howling at the moon.

 

Yet other times she’s quiet, almost ghost-like and numb,

 and I’ve learned to recognise each of her characters.

 

We all have different faces and moods -

 my grief is no exception –

 and most of all I try to listen to her,

 let her tell me what she needs from me

 and together we try to find a way forward,

 a way to live in this new universe,

 this altered world we’ve found ourselves in.

 

Eva Spevack 8/8/19