Tuesday, November 27, 2007

One Missing Rib Cage

from When They Slip Out Through the Churchyard Grate
By Gunnar Ekelof

...Oh, these homeless dead!
They do us no harm
they only keep us awake
It is only that they are missing
a finger, a toe, an arm
perhaps an entire rib cage
which ancient and modern witches stole
and crushed to dust for new love powders

The living ones do us evil often
The dead ones do us no harm
The living ones are consuming us
The dead ones, they are nourishing
The dead ones are nourishing


Translated by Robert Bly

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

One Modern Tearduct

from Love Tokens
By Tran Da Tu

I'll give you a roll of barbwire
A vine for this modern epoch
Climbing all over our souls
That’s our love, take it, don’t ask

...I'm still here, sweetie, so many love tokens
Metal handcuffs to wear, sacks of sand for pillows
Punji sticks to scratch your back, fire hoses to wash your face
How do we know which gift to send each other
And for how long until we get sated

Lastly, I'll give you a tear gas grenade
A tear gland for this modern epoch
A type of tear neither sad nor happy
Drenching my face as I wait.

Translated by Linh Dinh ~ More

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

One Cruel Moon

Anniversary of Death
By Onitsura

Rising autumn moon
Lighting in my lap this year
No pale sickly child

~Translated by Peter Bielenson

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

One Hooked Eyeball

You Have What I Look For
By Jaime Sabines

You have what I look for, what I long for, what I love,
you have it.
The fist of my heart is beating, calling.
I thank the stories for you,
I thank your mother and father
and death who has not seen you.
I thank the air for you.
You are elegant as wheat,
delicate as the outline of your body.
I have never loved a slender woman
but you have made my hands fall in love,
you moored my desire,
you caught my eyes like two fish.
And for this I am at your door, waiting.

Translated by W.S. Merwin

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

One Disenchanted Frog

The Frog Prince
By Stevie Smith

I am a frog
I live under a spell
I live at the bottom
Of a green well

And here I must wait
Until a maiden places me
On her royal pillow
And kisses me
In her father's palace.

The story is familiar
Everybody knows it well
But do other enchanted people feel as nervous
As I do? The stories do not tell,

Ask if they will be happier
When the changes come
As already they are fairly happy
In a frog's doom?

I have been a frog now
For a hundred years
And in all this time
I have not shed many tears.

I am happy, I like the life,
Can swim for many a mile
(When I have hopped to the river)
And am for ever agile.

And the quietness,
Yes, I like to be quiet
I am habituated
To a quiet life.

But always when I think these thoughts
As I sit in my well
Another thought comes to me and says:
It is part of the spell

To be happy
To work up contentment
To make much of being a frog
To fear disenchantment

Says, it will be heavenly
To be set free,
Cries, heavenly the girl who disenchants
And the royal times, heavenly,
And I think it will be.

Come then, royal girl and royal times,
Come quickly,
I can be happy until you come
But I cannot be heavenly,
Only disenchanted people
Can be heavenly.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

One Insufficient Earth

from Merciful God
By Kadya Molodowsky

Merciful God,
Choose another people,
Elect another.

We are tired of death and dying,
We have no more prayers.

Choose another people,
Elect another.

We have no more blood
To be a sacrifice.
Our house has become a desert.
The earth is insufficient for our graves,
No more laments for us,
No more dirges
In the old, holy books.

Merciful God,
Sanctify another country,
Another mountain.

We have strewn all the fields and every stone
With ash, with holy ash.
With the aged,
With the youthful,
And with babies, we have paid
For every letter of your Ten Commandments...

--Translated by Kathryn Hellerstein ~ Book

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

One Re-Reddened Pepper

Sudden radiance...
After October rainstorm
re-reddened peppers

--Buson, translated by Peter Beilenson

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

One Great Yes

Che Fece… Il Gran Refiuto
By C.P. Cavafy

For some people the day comes
when they have to declare the great Yes
or the great No. It’s clear at once who has the Yes
ready within him; and saying it,

he goes from honor to honor, strong in his conviction.
He who refuses does not repent. Asked again,
he’d still say no. Yet that no—the right no—
drags him down all his life.

Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard

Two Great Gifts

Art offers two great gifts of emotion: the emotion of recognition and the emotion of escape.

--Duncan Phillips

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

One Endless Winter

from The Sonnets to Orpheus
By Rainer Maria Rilke

Be ahead of all parting, as though it were
already behind you, like the winter that has just gone by.
For among these winters there is one so endlessly winter
that only by wintering it through will your heart survive.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

One Tone-Deaf Cricket

Even with insects...
Some are hatched out musical...
Some, alas, tone-deaf

--Issa, translated by Peter Beilenson

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

One Blinky Peacock

from A Birthday
By Christina Rossetti

...Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

One Weak Solution

Ghost
By Nina Cassian

A rug of dead butterflies at my feet,
dead and limp
(they don't experience rigor mortis).
I, on the other hand, am quite healthy:
I've extracted my liver,
plucked out my lungs,
wrenched out my heart,
and nothing hurts anymore.

To become a ghost
is a solution
I weakly recommend.


Translated by Christopher Hewitt ~ Book

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

One Unread Paper

from Recuerdo
By Edna St. Vincent Millay

...We were very tired, we were very merry—
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry;
And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear,
From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere;
And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold,
And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold.

We were very tired, we were very merry,
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.
We hailed, "Good morrow, mother!" to a shawl-covered head,
And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read;
And she wept, "God bless you!" for the apples and pears,
And we gave her all our money but our subway fares.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Three Unsuspecting Bloodhounds

Lord Randall

'O where hae ye been, Lord Randall, my son?
O where hae ye been, my handsome young man?'
'I hae been to the wild wood; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.'

'Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Randall, my son?
Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?'
'I din'd wi' my true-love; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.'

'What gat ye your dinner, Lord Randall, my son?
What gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man?'
'I gat eels boil'd in broo; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.'

'What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randall, my son?
What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?'
'O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon,
For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down.'

'O I fear ye are poison'd, Lord Randall, my son!
O I fear ye are poison'd, my handsome young man!'
'O yes! I am poison'd; mother, make my bed soon,
For I’m sick at the heart, and I fain wald lie down.'

One Disobedient Artist

The artist...may be tempted to satisfy himself in expressing his emotions as subject matter or psychological phenomena (which is the opposite of obeying intuitive or creative emotion).

--Jacques Maritain

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

One Bug-Depreciated Summer

O springtime twilight...
Precious moment worth to me
A thousand pieces

--Sotoba


Reply:
O summer twilight
Bug-depreciated to a
Mere five hundred

--Kikaku


Translated by Peter Beilenson

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

One Smiling Arrow

from The Judgment of Paris
By W.S. Merwin

...on that day
the one with the gray eyes spoke first
and whatever she said he kept
thinking he remembered
but remembered it woven with confusion and fear
the two faces that he called father
the first sight of the palace
where the brothers were strangers
and the dogs watched him and refused to know him
she made everything clear she was dazzling she
offered it to him
to have for his own but what he saw
was the scorn above her eyes
and her words of which he understood few
all said to him Take wisdom
take power
you will forget anyway

the one with the dark eyes spoke
and everything she said
he imagined he had once wished for
but in confusion and cowardice
the crown
of his father the crowns the crowns bowing to him
his name everywhere like grass
only he and the sea
triumphant
she made everything sound possible she was
dazzling she offered it to him
to hold high but what he saw
was the cruelty around her mouth
and her words of which he understood more
all said to him Take pride
take glory
you will suffer anyway


the third one the color of whose eyes
later he could not remember
spoke last and slowly and
of desire and it was his
though up until then he had been
happy with his river nymph
here was his mind
filled utterly with one girl gathering
yellow flowers
and no one like her
the words
made everything seem present
almost present
present
they said to him Take her
her
you will lose her anyway

it was only when he reached out to the voice
as though he could take the speaker
herself
that his hand filled with
something to give
but to give to only one of the three
an apple as it is told
discord itself in a single fruit its skin
already carved
To the fairest

then a mason working above the gates of Troy
in the sunlight thought he felt the stone
shiver
in the quiver on Paris's back the head
of the arrow for Achilles' heel
smiled in its sleep
and Helen stepped from the palace to gather
as she would do every day in that season
from the grove the yellow ray flowers tall
as herself
whose roots are said to dispel pain


Book

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

One Clear View

The Death of Fred Clifton
11/10/84
By Lucille Clifton

I seemed to be drawn
to the center of myself
leaving the edges of me
in the hands of my wife
and I saw with the most amazing
clarity
so that I had not eyes but
sight,
and, rising and turning,
through my skin,
there was all around not the
shapes of things
but oh, at last, the things
themselves.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

One Tiny Pearl

When One Has Come as Far as I in Pointlessness
By Gunnar Ekelof

When one has come as far as I in pointlessness
Each word is once more fascinating:
Finds in the loam
Which one turns up with an archaeologist's spade:
The tiny word you
Perhaps a pearl of glass
Which once hung around someone's neck
The huge word I
Perhaps a flint shard
With which someone who had no teeth scraped his own
Meat

Translated by Robert Bly ~ Book