First Ode to Grass
Ochirbatyn Dashbalbar
translated by Jessica Madison Pískatá
…O, grass—my corpse’s blood, my braided hair
O, generations on generations already vanished
O, grass true and pure, blowing in the wind, consumes these things.
O, my ancestors have become
grass waves rippling in autumn’s cold rain.
O, my dear grass, are those generations on generations digested by the earth now growing?
O, the sun will milk its rivulets into the grass, and poems and people will be born.
O, I palm my own ashes, my burned remains.
Tender sprigs of grass are sprouting in my too-hot palm.
O, the wind strokes me,and blowing in the wind, I feel that I am grass.
O, such sharp green juices,
in the stinging scent of the steppe, I rest in peace forever!
Over several centuries, I will flourish, dry out and die!
I am attached by umbilical with boulders and flowers
I, a hot corpse, shall sprinkle my decomposition’s milks upon the ground.
Gently, infant grasses peek between cracks in the rock,
O, my darling babies dancing in the wind …
Flowers dry out and become stone, flowers harden into stone,
I grow, pinched between flower and rock
my hot blood waters both flower and rock
The whole world and humankind shall be found within the petals of a flower…
Ochirbatyn Dashbalbar (1957-1999) was born in the former Mongolian People’s Republic. He is one of the most celebrated poets in contemporary Mongolian literature. Read more.
The poems from “Ode to Grass” are abridged versions, whose full texts can be found in the magazine Sapiens.