The Miracle of the Safe

A few technical problems have delayed the publication of this translation into English of my previous post, ‘Le Miracle du Coffre-Fort’; as usual it is my blogger colleague Nina who is to be thanked for the Google translation that becomes my first draft…

(For those who prefer to read me … in French! please read my previous post, which is not a translation of what I wrote also already in English, those are the same events but conveyed in a different way.

I have currently no more French keyboard, for the reason that you will understand easily from the very subject of this writing. So forgive me this text without accents or cedilla, and much less easy to read).

I  have been going through a strange period full of endless difficulties on the  surface, yet in the depths, and scattered on my external life too, with few sudden loads of wonderful flowers, pure Divine Grace. Here is an example, that I spontaneously described at the time in the form, unusual for me. of a kind of poem, dated June 25, 2013, a few days after the event itself:

THE MIRACLE OF THE SAFE

Before dawn.

When everyone’s asleep,

The thief

Takes off …

In the night

Of the early hours of day,

Noiselessly

He robs you

Of anything – of value or not –

Which happened to attract him;

It was making your life easier

And what you looked at more pleasant

For its nice little beauty …

This beauty, he seizes,

This happiness he destroys it.

In your space he enters,

The slightest gap is sufficient to him

Because her body is slim and agile;

Beware fragile closures

He can force

To come in

And settle

Quietly

Lights even all lit

To see better ‘

And better empty all your drawers.

This house that during twenty years

No one was able to enter

He manages to enter

And this is now his pass-time:

The house is no longer safe,

Night, the dark hours

Become threatening,

One goes to bed,

Having checked everything …

But when comes the dawn,

“This time what will he have stolen?”

One wonders all the same …

After so many times – the fifth –

When everything seemed secure

And yet became his laughing-stock:

Thanks to this body and this face,

Every time he found another passage

However incredibly narrow

It was enough. How hard a message

That he was  the cleverer one,

And we could do nothing against him!

But the day will come – the night –

When he can go through

Nowhere.

Everything is reinforced,

Changed each time, repaired,

Whatever he managed to force;

And this morning I have seen him,

Dark silhouette

Standing in the shadows

At the end of the terrace;

Surprised

At my cry

He turned away and fled

Sliding along an old sari

To the ground, without falling,

And disappeared in the darkness.

It was half past three.

Last night when getting asleep

I told myself to wake up

If the thief came again;

Congratulations and thanks to my body:

It faithfully obeyed me!

The thief was

Amazed

To see me up at this time

When only the thieves are up!

Also, I would have liked to see his face,

He the clever one nothing stops,

When just a few nights ago,

Wanting a still fuller cup,

After hours of intense effort

He forced open the safe …

And found it… already emptied!

So had I decided in my own cleverness:

I had everything with me, serene …

At least for that, it’s me who wins,

And the donations or savings

That keep Repos alive are all

Untouched, undiscovered, hidden,

Always kept discretely with me

Wherever I go and wherever I am,

Until the almirah.

Soon also repaired, will be back.

Instead of crying, screaming,

I prayed, really prayed,

May the force be given me

To resist the panic

Faced with that unrelenting thief.

As for my poor house

That used to feel like my fortress,

My dear home, in its distress,

Feels now like a Gruyere full of holes

Through which the thief takes everything;

It starts to feel better,

To regain confidence in itself,

To become citadel again,

Impregnable as before,

Not sure of our Divine Protection? ..,

Then we both remember

The Miracle of the safe:

When thanks to a thin

– So thin –

Line of rust,

Gnawed by the salt air

All along  the edge of the top,

Where it was not covered by protective fabric

This thief too smart,

Having seen that promising line.

After much effort

With the help of knives and levers

To slice open and pry apart the two sides of the steel

Succeeded in breaking the top of the metal cabinet.

This could have become tragic.

If he had succeeded immediately,

In his stride,

In also opening the safe inside,

It would have been an unprecedented misfortune:

I had all the money of Repos and the Guests,

And even more: put there along with the rest,

There was all the money for an essential work,

The small fortune, donated by a faithful friend,

For the publication finally of “The Magic Child”

In French,

And once again in English.

This wonderful gift

Was sitting there also, concealed wisely

In two small pretty bags of local fabric,

Like gold coins hidden in  humble jars.

That night suddenly

In my room upstairs,

I woke up with dread in my heart

That those two little bags looking so innocuous

Were about to disappear for ever; a terrible vise

Was clutching my chest.

Able only to call the Divine Protection,

Overcome by exhaustion I went back to sleep.

In the morning, I could see just how the Enemy

Had indeed really tried everything possible

And had indeed been able to open the outside

But miraculously had missed his target:

Protected by a Divine Act

From a laughing Krishna

The safe was intact,

And, on the desk, lying, abandoned,

Incredibly, was precisely the key! …

Hardly able to believe it, fearing still the worst,

With this key of the safe I started to open it,

And when it was opened there was no longer any doubt:

Divine Protection does blind thieves,

Hiding to them the treasures visible on the highway ….

Everything was there, inside, and only waiting for me.

“Well, I told myself, it is truly useful to have faith! …”

He had the key in his hand, but he did not know it!

In seeking to open the metal cabinet

He had first tried this key

Hanging among others above;

It was not the right one, so he rejected it

Without in his brain the illuminating flash

Showing him the key as being the correct one,

Indeed, but for the safe inside!

To whom to tell my joy? There was no one with me.

But I closed my eyes, in pure delight,

Seeing the intervention of Krishna my Lover.

That is why I write

This poem-tale;

This is because, twice

Feeling weak and naked

My soul had called,

And twice

The Help came.

Everything could be so easy

If we always relied on That …

But we are fools!

Let’s recover the happy habit

Of faith and gratitude,

For the coming New World

Is the Real World, and in It all goes well…!

Wood carving detail of the Hindu temple of Gre...

Wood carving detail of the Hindu temple of Greater Chicago, depicting god Krishna (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

9 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. dykewriter
    Aug 03, 2013 @ 11:38:05

    blushing. thank you, you are always kindly welcome

    Like

    Reply

    • Bhaga
      Aug 03, 2013 @ 12:53:12

      I hope you are now happy with the real meaning at last, after the preliminary unintelligible gibberish!!!😀 Sorry for the long time it took: my laptop’s padd stopped working, and after i got myself an external mouse, the mouse for a long time had the curious and extremely frustrating effect of stopping the keyboard from working!… Now, at least under certain conditions, everything is working, so I could complete the translation and post it.

      Like

      Reply

      • dykewriter
        Aug 03, 2013 @ 20:40:08

        You have intermittent connectivity

        and I totally relate to the luddite state

        I used to be quite the gadget geek
        now I really loathe being on the computer actually

        I’d be happy to never be online again

        Like

  2. dykewriter
    Aug 03, 2013 @ 13:01:00

    No worries, I enjoy doing that translation for your blog.

    actually, I was so chuffed by you calling me a colleague that our recent conversations inspired this post:

    http://dykewriter.wordpress.com/2013/08/03/the-family-tree-has-many-branches/

    and then I was thinking of checking out

    http://www.english.uga.edu/~jdmevans/Personal/JRRT1936.pdf

    http://www.paulinepark.com/2012/08/tolkien-the-anglo-saxon-heritage-of-beowulf/

    Like

    Reply

  3. Jamie Dedes
    Aug 03, 2013 @ 20:49:17

    A fine post. Particularly appreciate the sentiment in the closing lines.

    For the coming New World

    Is the Real World, and in It all goes well…!

    Like

    Reply

    • Bhaga
      Aug 04, 2013 @ 07:36:53

      The most wonderful thing is that what I said in those two last lines is simply true!
      Thank you very much for expressing your appreciation through this equally fine comment of yours…

      Like

      Reply

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