Poetry

(Trakl's last poem) At sundown the autumn woods resound With deadly weapons, the golden fields And blue lakes, the sun Moves on seriously; The night grasps Dying soldiers, the wild cries From their shattered mouths. Red clouds gather silently Over the meadows, sent by a wrathful god, Soaking up the lost blood, cool as the…

The round, hanging lanterns, Lit early, are squeaking, Ever more festively, ever brighter, The flying snowflakes glitter. And, quickening their steady gait, As if sensing some pursuit, Through the softly falling snow Under a dark blue net, the horses race. And the gilded footman Stands motionless behind the sleigh, And the Tsar looks around strangely…

1. LASER MAJESTY Light show at the Planetarium. Schlock music. Seven colors put through drum Majorette paces. “We saw God tonight,” Said Morgan, Yes, and She was chewing gum. 2. VOLTAIRE: ON A STATUE OF CHRIST IN JESUIT ATTIRE Admire these monks' excessive art And industry, who've dressed you, dear God! in their very robes…

trans. German Stuart Freibert I made myself some air every which way. It remained nicely invisible. No one saw me petting it. We went on living together. I felt great standing there finding what I sought in the air. I was partial to it because it was all around me. And it stood by me…

trans. Serbian Charles Simic with Morton Marcus Just pop into my head My thoughts the better to claw your cheek Just step in front of me My eyes the better to snap at you Just open your big mouth My silence the better to crack your jaws Just remind me of what you are My…

Late summer breathed from earth and stones,      Tall lupins probed the air, The Milky Way was combed-out light,      The sheen off midnight's hair. I watched a long time in the yard      The usual stars, the still And seemly planets, lantern-bright      Above our darkened hill. And then a star that moved, I thought,      And then it…

trans. Czech David Young and author Those who were greening, they shall be turned to snow. Those who were about to fly shall fall asleep in the tar pits      like the wolves of La Brea. Those who called out shall be turned to an exclamation point      at the end of a declaratory sentence      never spoken….

trans. Italian Jonathan Galassi Don't ask us for the word to frame our shapeless spirit on all sides, and blaze it in letters of fire, to shine like a lost crocus in a dusty plain. Ah, the man who walks secure, a friend to others and himself, uncaring that high summer prints his shadow on…

When I grow up and you get small, then — (In Kaluza's theory the fifth dimension is represented as a circle associated with every point in spacetime)      —then when I die, I'll never be alive again?            Never. Never never?            Never never. Yes, but never never never?            No . . . not never…