Rúfus, Milan: My first city clothes (Môj prvý mestský oblek Angol nyelven)

Jesenný deň,
deň – klenot z Božej dielne.
Obloha bola na dosah ruky,
blízka.

Vyzeral ako neskutočný sen
koberec brusníc v tráve Opaliska.

Zbierali sme ich celý deň.

A za ten úlovok, tie lesné perly oblé,
kúpila mama v meste biely oblek.

Dodnes jej hlas,
dodneska vo mne žije,
priam posvätný jak liturgický švabach:
„Nemóžeš chodiť do tej gymnázie
v dedinských starých hábach...“

Ej, horí ohník, horí...
Aj do mesta ma vystrojili hory.

An autumn day,
day – a treasure from God’s workshop.
The sky was within easy reach,
close.

Like an unrealistic dream
a carpet of cranberries in the grass of Opalisko Hill.

We collected them the entire day.

And with the coins given us for that find, those oval pearls of the forest
Mom bought the white suit in town.

To this day her voice,
to this day in me lives,
as sacred as the old hymns that she sang:
“You sure ain’t going to that city school
in those tattered village rags…”

“Burn fire burn!”
sang the mountain men of old,
“Even when I had to leave home for the city
it was the mountains that still clothed me.
Burn fire burn!”