2017. április 28., péntek

Carmi Soifer: Writing/Prose

Afraid it sounds too much like poetry,
I start again climbing four hundred steps
in a foreign clime looking at views.
A woman descending tells me,
Be careful; they will knock you on the head 
and take your gold.
Fearing they will not recognize
I wear no gold chains, I nonetheless
climb the stairs again and again.

2017. április 27., csütörtök

Paul Mitchell: Conversation at the Publishing House

               Poor cultures can afford poetry, wealthy cultures can’t – Les Murray

Who’s that on the phone?
          I think it’s that poet again
He wanted something, didn’t he, I wrote it down–
          Our publishing guidelines—
Tell him no one’s funding poetry
Tell him poetry strained a back muscle
Tell him poetry attempted a double
somersault with pike, landed on its belly
Tell him my bra strap’s loose
Tell him your shirt’s too tight
Tell him there’s a lot of competition
Words aren’t cheap
toads have warts
and ice-cream shouldn’t be left
in the car at the supermarket—
He’s just hung up . . . 
Has he? Bloody poets

2017. április 26., szerda

Tilli Zsuzsi: Botanika

a füvészkert lakói vagyunk.
a huzat idehajlít néha mellém és olyankor megcsodállak.
figyelem, ahogy árnyékkrétával rajzolsz ívet a délutánnak.

szerves mozaikba keveredtünk, mondom,
így, földhöz ragadva, de azért függetlenül.
te nem szólsz. talán nem is hallgatsz,
csak virágnyelven énekelsz a csendről.
mozdulatlanul táncolunk.
kísérlek és közben arról álmodom, hogy egyszer indák leszünk.

2017. április 25., kedd

Leo Dangel: How to Take a Walk

This is farming country.
The neighbors will believe
you are crazy
if you take a walk
just to think and be alone.
So carry a shotgun
and walk the fence line.
Pretend you are hunting
and your walking will not
arouse suspicion.
But don’t forget
to load the shotgun.
They will know
if your gun is empty.
Stop occasionally.
Cock your head and listen
to the doves you never see.
Part the tall weeds
with your hand and inspect
the ground.
Sniff the air as a hunter would.
(That wonderful smell
of sweet clover is a bonus.)
Soon you will forget
the gun in your hands,
but remember, someone
may be watching.
If you hear beating wings
and see the bronze flash
of something flying up,
you will have to shoot it.

2017. április 24., hétfő

Rumi: [Let yourself be silently drawn...]

Let yourself be silently drawn
by the strange pull of what you really love.
It will not lead you astray.

2017. április 21., péntek

Roberto Juarróz: If We Knew the Point

(To Laura)

If we knew the point
where something is going to break,
where the thread of kisses will be cut,
where a look will no longer meet another,
where the heart will leap toward another place,
we could all put another point on that point
or at least go with it to its breaking.

If we knew the point
where something is going to melt into something,
where the desert will meet the rain,
where the embrace will touch life itself,
where my death will come closer to yours,
we could unwind that point like a streamer,
or at least sing it till we died.

If we knew the point
where something will always be something,
where the bone will not forget the flesh,
where the fountain is mother to another fountain,
where the past will never be past,
we could leave that point and erase all the others,
or at least keep it in a safer place.