Goddess Peak

Michelle Slinger; Madeline Penn; Alex Stern; Hector Roman; Kejia Wang; Malika Kadyrova; Macile Dietrick; Anna Carapellotti; Steph Barron; Michael Karam; Shailley Pandey; Naomi Bernstein; Kristen Pearson

translated by Michelle Slinger

Among the multicolored handkerchiefs that set you free
Whose is the hand that retracts itself
Creating cover
For her own eyes?
When all drift away
Who remains
Tied to the mast?
Cresting clouds restlessly flow through every dress fold
Like the tides of the river, wanting:
Above
Below
Calling for a lovely dream and beautiful sorrow left
Behind
Passing through time, along the lines of the earth
To paradise
But can a heart truly harden when it beat so ardently?
For a chance to gaze at ghosts: silent in the immortal sky,
You would give all the moons of fertile springs;
Along the shore, floods of flowers whisper
Inciting new betrayal.
Spending your future
A cliff-top show piece,
Is hollow compared to
Weeping on your lover's shoulder,
Tonight.


translated by Madeline Penn

Handkerchiefs
Fluttering with crimson threads, glowing golden-rose
Whose fingers fell away
Whose eyelids dipped
When all had gone, who lingers on the keel?
Sky-pillows float, tides tumble,
Rolling along the sand
Mystical dream stripped of mystical sorrow
Earth to ether, everlasting
But does heart harden to rock?
To catch sight of cranes in the unbounded blue
You've sacrificed many Springmoons
By the tumbling tide
By the rush of royal oak and willow,
Trust is tarnished like stained ivory silk.
Over mountain-lingering for millennia,
You wept in the crevice of your lover's shoulder


translated by Alex Stern

Whose hand suddenly withdrew
from the crowd of waving handkerchiefs
to cover her eyes?
Who remained at the stern
while everyone left,
clouds cresting through the folds of her dress?
The river tides:
a yearning high,
a yearning low,
a beautiful dream leaving behind a beautiful sorrow.
It stays —from world to heaven,
heaven to world.
But can a heart phase into stone?
Would it,
for a chance to gaze
at quiet, distant cranes?
Countless full moons
have missed us from the springtide.
The choice is this:
Millennia marking a cliff
Or a single night to weep, and a shoulder waiting.


translated by Hector Roman

While brightly colored handkerchiefs wave at you
one hand withdraws
shielding her eyes.
When those handkerchiefs had flown away, one
remained pensive at the stern
her flowing dress mirroring the restless clouds' flight
The sounds of the river's tides
Hopeful, high
Longing, low
that lovely dream imparts lasting sorrow
through generations, from finite earth to the inestimable heavens.
But can any warm heart
be fully petrified?
You sacrificed the fluorescence of countless full moons
for a chance to contemplate close-mouthed cranes
but, along the river's shore
the infinite privet and gush of goldenglow
begin talks of treachery
for who could choose a millennia on a mountain
over one night's comfort-crying
on the shoulder of a tangible dream?


translated by Keija Wang

Among al the colored handkerchiefs that waved at you
Whose was the hand that abruptly withdrew
Tightly covering her own eyes?
When everyone had scattered to leave, who
Remained standing at the stern
Cresting clouds flying through every dress fold?
The river's tides...
A yearning high
A yearning low
A beautiful dream leaves behind a beautiful sorrow
Retold generation after generation, from this world to heaven's hold
But, can a heart
Truly turn into stone...?
For a chance to gaze at the soundless cranes in the distant sky
You've passed up countless full moons on the springtide.
Take a walk by the river shore;
The undercurrents of your privets and goldenglow
Are inciting a new betrayal
Instead of spending entire millennia exhibited on a cliff
Why not find solace on the shoulders of a loved one true?


translated by Malika Kadyrova

Among the multi-coloured handkerchiefs waving
whose hand suddenly drew back
to tightly cover her eyes
When everyone had scattered and left
who still remained at the stern
clouds roaming through every fold of her dres
The cresting waves of the river
A yearning high, a yearning low
What lingers after an exquisite dream
generation through generation
From this world to heaven's hold
can a heart turn to stone?
For the chance to look up at the silent cranes 
in the so many full-mooned springtides were mislaid
Each flood of privet and goldenglow
is a new betrayal
Better to spend the night crying on a lover's shoulder
than to stand on this cliff
on display for a thousand years


translated by Macile Dietrick

For you they'll wave banners, rainbows
of handkerchiefs, but whose hand
will hold back, clasping tight
over eyes.
When they've scattered like prism light, who
will guide the stern through the clouds,
cresting in the folds of a dress
and the river, its tides
yearning high,
yearning low.
Beautiful dreams sow a beautiful sorrow
generations deep, as heaven
holds the world,
but a heart
never really turns to stone.
Oh, how many moons will you miss
full with spring
for gazing at the shadows of crane wings,
while along the shore a cascade of brush
and daisies give rise
to secret undoings.
Don't stand so firm at the cliffside -
what if one night your tears
shone here, on love's shoulder.


translated by Anna Carapellotti

Of the bright, silk scarves waving at you
Mine was the hand that suddenly withdrew

Palms pressed over my eyes
Everyone scattered, without goodbyes

I remain at the edge of the stern
The breeze ruffles my skirt, the clouds restlessly churn

River tides run high, then low
Beautiful dreams forsaken make room for sorrow

From generation to generation, from Earth to Heaven's hold
Cranes soar skyward with mute beaks of gold

You've passed countless full moons on the springtide
Privet and goldenglow along for the ride

Now a new betrayal rolls in the crest
But is there shame in moaning one night on your lover's chest?

Instead you'll spend forever on the peak alone
But I wonder, can a heart truly harden into stone?


translated by Steph Barron

They waved at you, those coloured handkerchiefs
But whose hand suddenly withdrew
To cover her eyes
As everyone dispersed?
Who remained at the stern?
Who crested restless clouds
Through river tides, yearning
High
And low?
A beautiful dream will leave you
Suspended over a jagged cliff
With a legacy
Of beautiful sorrow,
From this world to the embrace of heaven.
But can a heart
Become stone, truly?
You've passed numerous moons on the springtide
To gaze skyward to silent cranes
The currents of the river valley
Sing of a new betrayal.


translated by Michael Karam

Among the multicolored handkerchiefs
That waved at me
A hand suddenly withdrew
Tightly hiding my own eyes.
When everyone else had fled, who
Remained behind,
Standing by me at the stern
Cutting through the clouds,
Courageously flying
Through every dress fold.
The river tides,
A yearning ebbing,
A yearning flowing,
Beautiful dream
Leaving behind beautiful sorrow
Fleeing through the generations,
From this earth to heaven's hold
But can my heart
Truly turn to stone?
For a chance to gaze
At the voiceless cranes
In a muted sky
I've given up countless full moons
On the springtide.
Along the river bend
The rushing currents of the willow and silver birch
Incite a new betrayal.
Instead of spending forever being showcased on a cliff
Why not, on a lover's shoulder, sob a full night true?


translated by Shailly Pandey

In the iridescent handkerchiefs that wave to you
Whose hand is suddenly withdrawn
Tightly concealing her eyes
When the others take their leave, who
Is still perched at the stern
The folds of a dress rippling with crested clouds
And tides of rivers
Lamenting high
Lamenting low
Beautiful dreams leave beautiful melancholy
In one eternity and the next,
But can the heart
Really become stone
To gaze up at the prayers of cranes in the sky
You've sacrificed countless Spring moons
O n the river bank
Torrents of privet and goldenglow
Ignite infidelities below you
You:
On a cliff for one thousand years
Is never like
The joy of stifling sobs
Into love's curving shoulders
For a night whispering with stars.


translated by Naomi Bernstein

Among the multicolored handkerchiefs
One waves at you
The one whose hand drew away
As you looked, covering eyes
After everyone was gone, the one who
Stayed
Standing at the stern despite currents
Of your terrible yesterdays
Clouds transforming as the creases of silk
Walk through wind
The river flow
The wanting high
The wanting low
Waking up to that lovely sadness after a lovely dream
Passing through life
Over again
But can a heart turn to stone
For the chance to just
Watch
Now you've turned away too many
Now the river won't return
Instead of taping that photo of you
To the moon
Why not cry in the arms of someone
You can touch
Who can touch — you?


translated by Kristen Pearson

From among the multicolored handkerchiefs they waved at you,
the hand that suddenly withdrew
to cover grieving eyes
was mine,
and it was I who lingered at the stern when all the others scattered,
eager to gape at fresher marvels.
The clouds cresting off the water tangled in the hem of my skirt,
and I felt the river's yearning in the tides.

A beautiful dream leaves behind a beautiful sorrow.
It echoes in heaven and earth; it endures.
But can a heart really turn to stone?

For the chance to gaze upon the distant cranes,
their laughter silenced in the upper air,
you've given up the sight of springtime moonlight.
Remember how it shivered on the river bank,
and kissed the inlet eddies choked with petals
From the privet and the goldenglow?

Break your promise.
Better to sob a single night on a new lover's shoulder
than to make yourself into a shrine of stone.