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More poems by Jorge Luis BorgesJorge Luis Borges | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Jorge Luis BorgesBooks by Jorge Luis Borges

Shinto

Jorge Luis Borges

When sorrow lays us low
for a second we are saved
by humble windfalls
of the mindfulness or memory:
the taste of a fruit, the taste of water,
that face given back to us by a dream,
the first jasmine of November,
the endless yearning of the compass,
a book we thought was lost,
the throb of a hexameter,
the slight key that opens a house to us,
the smell of a library, or of sandalwood,
the former name of a street,
the colors of a map,
an unforeseen etymology,
the smoothness of a filed fingernail,
the date we were looking for,
the twelve dark bell-strokes, tolling as we count,
a sudden physical pain.

Eight million Shinto deities
travel secretly throughout the earth.
Those modest gods touch us--
touch us and move on.


Translated by Hoyt Rogers

Added: 9 Jan 2002 | Last Read: 23 Jan 2018 12:20 PM | Viewed: 7887 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/2199/ | Viewed on 23 January 2018.
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