Friday, October 10, 2008

Mishigiin Tsedendorj (1932-1982)

You and I are sailing towards the sun

You and I are sleeping on a cloud
You and I are sailing towards the sun
You and I pass over rivers and streams
You and I pass over gazing horses and animals
You and I pass over vast steppes and noble mountains
You and I pass over a wide road stretching into distance
You and I pass over singing of love songs
You and I are carried on a cloud and sailing towards the sun

You and I are falling to Earth as rain
You and I make flowers with our juices
You and I are vaporizing, rising again into the sky



What’s Impossible in this World


What’s impossible in this world?
A little rabbit can beat a lion.
A sworn lover,
Bored by his betrothed,
Can switch his loving thoughts elsewhere.
Yes, yes, everything is possible.
What’s impossible in this world?

What’s not happening in this world?
People are living on the moon.
We’re worshipping morons.
My god’s becoming my enemy.
Yes, yes, it’s all happening.
What’s not happening in this world?

What’s not imaginable in this world?
Teachers are being betrayed.
Relatives are being killed.
They want to take the very air we breathe.
Where is the good will to fight this evil?
Yes, yes, they’re thinking all these things.
What’s not imaginable in this world?

But, having nourished my body into this wild world,
I would never hold my mother’s milk for poison.
And, having been lulled to sleep in its arms,
I would never believe the Mongolian language lacking.
I would never betray my language or my mother,
The very soul of my Motherland.


Translated and edited by Tsog Shagdarsuren and Simon Wickham-Smith

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