http://xkcd.com/1334/
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Translations by Adrienne Rich (1972)
You show me the poems of some woman
my age, or younger
translated from your language
Certain words occur: enemy, oven, sorrow
enough to let me know
she's a woman of my time
obsessed
with Love, our subject:
we've trained it like ivy to our walls
baked it like bread in our ovens
worn it like lead on our ankles
watched it through binoculars as if
it were a helicopter
bringing food to our famine
or the satellite
of a hostile power
I begin to see that woman
doing things: stirring rice
ironing a skirt
typing a manuscript till dawn
trying to make a call
from a phonebooth
The phone rings endlessly
in a man's bedroom
she hears him telling someone else
Never mind. She'll get tired.
hears him telling her story to her sister
who becomes her enemy
and will in her own way
light her own way to sorrow
ignorant of the fact this way of grief
is shared, unnecessary
and political
my age, or younger
translated from your language
Certain words occur: enemy, oven, sorrow
enough to let me know
she's a woman of my time
obsessed
with Love, our subject:
we've trained it like ivy to our walls
baked it like bread in our ovens
worn it like lead on our ankles
watched it through binoculars as if
it were a helicopter
bringing food to our famine
or the satellite
of a hostile power
I begin to see that woman
doing things: stirring rice
ironing a skirt
typing a manuscript till dawn
trying to make a call
from a phonebooth
The phone rings endlessly
in a man's bedroom
she hears him telling someone else
Never mind. She'll get tired.
hears him telling her story to her sister
who becomes her enemy
and will in her own way
light her own way to sorrow
ignorant of the fact this way of grief
is shared, unnecessary
and political
Tonight No Poetry Will Serve by Adrienne Rich (2008)
Saw you walking barefoot
taking a long look
at the new moon's eyelid
later spread
sleep-fallen, naked in your dark hair
asleep but not oblivious
of the unslept unsleeping
elsewhere
Tonight I think
no poetry
will serve
Syntax of rendition:
verb pilots the plane
adverb modifies action
verb force-feeds noun
submerges the subject
noun is choking
verb disgraced goes on doing
there are adjectives up for sale
now diagram the sentence
taking a long look
at the new moon's eyelid
later spread
sleep-fallen, naked in your dark hair
asleep but not oblivious
of the unslept unsleeping
elsewhere
Tonight I think
no poetry
will serve
Syntax of rendition:
verb pilots the plane
adverb modifies action
verb force-feeds noun
submerges the subject
noun is choking
verb disgraced goes on doing
there are adjectives up for sale
now diagram the sentence
Saturday, November 22, 2014
Snow season
It is Sunday night, winter.
The sun has gone down early. It is snowing.
I am meant to be working
My thoughts linger on food
My eyes linger on my phone
Smiling
My body is warm
I am wearing a big hoodie
Lights and shadows play in my quiet house
Just to laugh with him, that would be good
It is almost Christmas
And I ask my self, what do I want
The sun has gone down early. It is snowing.
I am meant to be working
My thoughts linger on food
My eyes linger on my phone
Smiling
My body is warm
I am wearing a big hoodie
Lights and shadows play in my quiet house
Just to laugh with him, that would be good
It is almost Christmas
And I ask my self, what do I want
life
I break into the night like a wave
frothing at the gills
fishy flipping anger
I wonder if everyone is like this
My tired, shut mind opens and opens
I look and look and look at Moula
I am running
I am almost falling
I dress up to leave
then everything is better
moving and focused.
I am round and large
warm
rejuvenated
frothing at the gills
fishy flipping anger
I wonder if everyone is like this
My tired, shut mind opens and opens
I look and look and look at Moula
I am running
I am almost falling
I dress up to leave
then everything is better
moving and focused.
I am round and large
warm
rejuvenated
blue
the blue water washes
my body
and I am lost
swinging in the air
it hurts
that kisses and hugs
are reserved for those
that don't hunger for them
time and time again I
come out swinging too wide
too wide on the corners and the blue
blue, blue water
falls cold on my body
drenching the sounds. the air
swings and swings, again and again
this old, old night
hurts.
my body
and I am lost
swinging in the air
it hurts
that kisses and hugs
are reserved for those
that don't hunger for them
time and time again I
come out swinging too wide
too wide on the corners and the blue
blue, blue water
falls cold on my body
drenching the sounds. the air
swings and swings, again and again
this old, old night
hurts.
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