trans. Polish Richard Lourie “Same with this lieutenant we had in the army, name of Wozniak, a tall in the saddle kind of guy, yes, sir,” and along my temple the sober rectilinear chill of the scissors, clack of a razon on a strop behind me, local clarinets grinning on the radio. That I sailed…
trans. Russian Judith Hemschemeyer I will leave your white house and peaceful garden. And life will be empty and bright. As for you, you I will celebrate in my poems, As a woman has never been able to do. And you will remember the dear lover For whose eyes you created this paradise, But I…
Nettle, O prow of this shore where it is shattered, Frozen erect in the wind, Make me the sign of presence, o my servant In your black, scaly gown. O grey stone If it is true that you have within you blood's color, Let flow out some of the blood coursing through you, Open for…
(The first protest leaflet. June, 1956.) A ten year old boy runs out to a street puffy with sleep. The June sun crunches underfoot reflected by strewn glass. Like a kite the closed kiosk trails a line of people. No one speaks, eyes are seldom raised. Normally the papers were always there by then. The…
And all day, terrified by its own moans, The crowd churns in agonized grief, And across the river, on funeral banners, Sinister skulls laugh. This is what I wrote and dreamed about, They have ripped my heart apart, As after a volley of gunfire, it's suddenly still, And death send patrols through the courtyards. Summer…
Like a coffin in a procession whose corpse leaves A stealthy trickle of violets in its wake While Attica bids it a soft Good evening. Like some harrassed gardener bending down Among the cables and the skinflint stones Without hearing the passion of the bitter-orange When it cloaks itself in wind and beckons with the…
New snow onto old ice last night. Now, errand-bound to town, preoccupied with the mudge in his head, he applied his brakes too fast. And found himself in a big car out of control, moving broadside down the road in the immense stillness of the winter morning. Headed inexorably for the intersection. The things that…
The garden was entering the sea Cape of deep carnation Your hand was leaving with the tide Smoothing the sea's bridal gown Your hand was opening the sky. Angels with eleven swords Were sailing alongside your name Slashing through the flowery waves Down below the white sails leaned In quick northeasterly squalls. With the white…
This morning was something. A little snow lay on the ground. The sun floated in a clear blue sky. The sea was blue, and blue-green, as far as the eye could see. Scarcely a ripple. Calm. I dressed and went for a walk. Determined not to return until I took in what Nature had to…
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