Posts Tagged ‘ sonnet ’

▶ Anne Carson: “Cassandra Float Can” and sonnet sequence | 92Y Readings by 92Y

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Suzanne Gardinier’s “Stammering translated sonnet in which the poet sends the rains of Havana to her love in New York” |

Stammering translated sonnet in which the poet sends the rains of Havana to her love in New York

Suzanne Gardinier1961

Got your message, here
in the letter you didn’t write:
burned, with a forbidden seal,
marking the burial site
of what has neither voice nor definition,
what has no face, no peace, no place to sleep,
a whisper in which I can’t [inaudible]
—what the sea doesn’t say, whispering, every night,
and when the rain comes to erase the streets
tomorrow, & all the dusks that follow that,
and runs around making up street dances
from what you once said, I’ll have this map,
without details, made of what I’ve missed,
telling me that that which isn’t is.

Spanish:

Soneto Balbuciendo En Que La Poeta Manda A Su Amor En Nueva York La Lluvia de La Habana

He leído el mensaje que mandaste,
aquí, en la carta no me has escrito:
quemada, y con sello prohibido,
diciéndome dónde enterraste
lo que no tiene voz ni luz ni cara,
ni paz, ni un lugar para dormir,
susurro donde yo puedo oír
cada noche lo que no dice el mar,
y cuando la lluvia borrará las calles
mañana, y los crepúsculos después,
y correrá haciendo bailes
de lo que me dijiste una vez,
yo tendré este mapa, sin detalles,
que me dice que lo que no es, es.

Copyright © 2015 by Suzanne Gardinier. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on July 15, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.

Happiness by Noelle Kocot | Poem-a-Day | Poets.org

Happiness

Noelle Kocot

Our ancestors in the earth are not
Ashamed of us. The strong smell
Of dirt, the delirious rabbits, the
Clocks are all disappearing. A

Prehistoric gift acquires the smell
Of salt. I grasp onto winter’s tail.
Some water plants are lying around.
Smell & taste, I have had good

Luck in love. The slippery roads,
The capricious numbers on a blazing
Road, meet me at the forest’s edge
Where we can go with our legs

Lopped off, strangers to the clean
Teeth and tongue of outward happiness.

Copyright © 2015 by Noelle Kocot. Used with permission of the author.

Seamus Heaney poem chosen as Ireland’s best-loved – RTÉ News

Seamus Heaney’s ‘When All the Others were Away at Mass’ has been chosen as Ireland’s best-loved poem

When all the others were away at Mass 

In Memoriam M.K.H., 1911-1984

When all the others were away at Mass
I was all hers as we peeled potatoes.
They broke the silence, let fall one by one
Like solder weeping off the soldering iron:
Cold comforts set between us, things to share
Gleaming in a bucket of clean water.
And again let fall. Little pleasant splashes
From each other’s work would bring us to our senses.
So while the parish priest at her bedside
Went hammer and tongs at the prayers for the dying
And some were responding and some crying
I remembered her head bent towards my head,
Her breath in mine, our fluent dipping knives –
Never closer the whole rest of our lives.

 

 

 

Seamus Heaney poem chosen as Ireland’s best-loved – RTÉ News.

Sonnet 90: The poet slides on her bottom stubborn, by Don Yorty

Sonnet 90: The poet slides on her bottom stubborn.

My 3,000 Loving Arms: Borges, my last of ’11, my first of ’12. “Someone,” a poem

My 3,000 Loving Arms: Borges, my last of ’11, my first of ’12. “Someone,” a poem.

Sonnet 10: for Juan Ramón Jiménez, by Don Yorty

Don Yorty’s sonnet brings to mind the Spanish poet, Pablo Neruda, who wrote of another Jiménez in the poem Alberto Rojas Jiménez viene volando /  Alberto Rojas Jiménez Comes Flying  ~

Vienes volando, solo, solitario,
solo entre muertos, para siempre solo,
vienes volando sin sombra y sin nombre,
sin azucar, sin boca, sin rosales,
vienes volando.

You come flying, alone, in your solitude,
alone with the dead, alone in eternity,
shadowless, nameless, you come flying
without sweets, or a mouth, or a thicket of roses,
you come flying.

Pablo Neruda