Translation

 

 

 

The sun slips through the slats of my Venetian blinds,

and for a moment I stare, hypnotized, as the sun transforms itself,

into a figure eight, the symbol of infinity, a fecund globe.

 

Set in motion by the fluidity of orchestral hands marching

clockwise and counterclockwise,

in syncopation.

   

Time, a chamelion, transforming itself,

into a kaleidoscope of rainbow hues.

And I am hypnotized

as one may be

by the setting or rising of the sun. 

 

By this I am reminded. Of leaves that have fallen,

swept away, moribund.

By winds of time and circumstance.

Awaiting a new season of awkward kisses to unfurl

the bud, confuse the flower.

 

I ignore this and continue to search

for what doesn’t belong.

Like a book that requires

translation. 

     

And therefore, lost, desolo, as I am.

Take leave as you may,

leave, leave, everything leaves.

The sun, the moon, the day, the night.  

For how can the sun fail to set

and arise again once more?

 

Bound by the pages of a graceless thumb,

Unwilling to open what has been discarded.

Unread,

Unopened, unseen,

unknown.

 

I shall yet again stand alone, unread.

Take me from the shelf, decipher as you may,

for I do

not belong.  

   

 

 

e.e. cummings

Contemporary poet e.e cummings is the only poet I am aware of that was able to deftly manipulate the English language with such good effect. With reckless abandon he changed the physical landscape of words on the page and re-arranged grammatical structure to produce a stunning effect, often highlighting and emphasizing certain words and sentences and re-arranging others. This ultimately gives birth to his message but only after a period of contemplation.

I love his creative manipulation of the language. And in fact I don’t think anyone has ever been able to do it better. When he was alive his work was under rated, but as with all great poets, only fully appreciated after his death.

One of my favourite poems ever written by Cumming’s is called “i carry your heart with me”.  It was quoted by the character that Carmen Diaz plays in the movie, “In Her Shoes”, a very witty movie about two sisters who are polar opposites. It is recited in a poignant scene, when one of the sisters is getting married, and always brings a tear to my eyes. His poignant words about love are timeless and never lose their meaning.

This poem provides a good example of how Cummings manipulates the language with small letters, parenthesis and sentence structure for fascinating effect. This poem seems to resonate with many, one of Cumming’s most popular and one that I hold close to my heart.

 The poem,” i carry your heart with me” by e.e. cummings.

 

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

If you carry someone within your heart, no matter where you are, they are always with you.

Destination

 

 

  

You are here somewhere,

Hidden from sight,

Along a path,

That reflects the light,

That blinds me momentarily.

 

I walk amongst many,

And yet I am alone.

Nothing revealed,

In the emptiness,

Of  faces,

And the downcast eyes,

Of humanity.  

 

All I can hear is the hollow sound,

Of  footsteps

That echo off the concrete,

In a city, that is any city,

Anywhere. 

 

A hazy outline forms against the darkness

Of the setting sun,

Rich in colour, but lacking in warmth,

For I am cold and so is this day.

 

The leaves at my feet

Are dead.

A testament

To life.

And a reminder of the seasons,

That change.

 

And in the mist against the darkness

Is an outline,

Of a man.

With hands that bear witness,

To the writing,

On a note.

 

It is a ticket,

For a destination,

That no longer exists,

And a time,

That has long expired.

 

So I continue to search,

For you.  

 

 

And the rain falls…

In glancing back,

Was there ever a beginning?

And from that beginning,

Was there ever an end?

 

When the rain falls,

It reveals,

An existence,

And a reality,

That matters only

in that precise moment,

it takes place.