The "One" is His name for us miserable humans,
The Unknown, the Shining Light of the Brahman,
The Only One Who really knows everything
In the ever expanding and banging Universe.
Only He, Who is Perfect and Omniscient, 
Can understand even the most hidden purpose of our vain
Crawling into life, like silky blinded worms
Wandering upon the leaves of a Cosmic Immortal Mulberry-Tree..

He's the Prime and Higher Factor of the True Gnosis (*),
To Whom each of us will have to come back immaculate,
When the last "time of the dream" expires,
When the perverse circle of the eternal return 
Closes forever, after thousands and thousands of
Breathless dreams, when our Atman, after reaching its aim at last,
Is finally able to rejoin its own lost Divine Essence.
 

I've got a hazy recollection of my previous lives
On this Planet, which we, ghosts of flesh, call Earth.
Now and then, the warm breath of love, has lightly touched me,
Like the tepid March wind which warms up the frozen bones,
And the gentle soul mate of a human Goddess
With a smooth hot body, made of blood and Divine Essence,
Has nourished with true joy my thirsty karma.
We went together along numberless "times of dreams" ,
For a long or short way, embraced and dazed,
Stumbling and falling in the grievous road's mud,
Helping each other in vain, because each of us has got a different fate.


But most of my numberless lives 
Have been but awful, painful nightmares,
In which every perfect sense got lost in chaos,
And no hope could have soothed my damned soul's anguish.
Not a belief, not one last esoteric truth to be discovered
Enlightened that evil shadow thrown by Maya's gloomy veil;
I was alone... once again alone in the burning desert of life.

Why should I have to bear all that once more, my God?
Why, Unknown Will, would You bring me again
To the feeble crepuscular light of  life on Earth
Through the hard labour pains of a guiltless woman?
Why she, poor girl, ought to love me, after all?

I want neither your merciful milk, earthly mum, beloved Shakti,
Nor your small pragmatic dreams, which could never be mine.
I don't want to live again, let me please die forever,
Let me return, free and purified, to the Holy Moon, Who's my real Mother,
And then to the Mighty Sun, Who's my luminous Father...

...And then far, and still farther again beyond the known galaxies, 
Beyond the infinite, lost in the space-time without space or time,
Billions of light-years far away from those pale wretched lives,
Light at last, like an empty sideral corpse without blood, 
Without bones, without flesh, without thoughts, without memory.
I wish I could, oh God I beg of you, become just an eone (**),
A lone, tiny, trifling but shining drop of light, 
Dispersed in the incommensurable vacuum of Your Divine Nothing...


...Till the last end of the ended up time.

CREDITS:

Thank you Maremé, my dear Web Angel, for your support 
And precious help in revising my poor translation.