Posts Tagged ‘ Suzanne Gardinier ’

Suzanne Gardinier’s “Gapped Sonnet”

Gapped Sonnet

Suzanne Gardinier1961

Between the blinds Past the coded locks
Past the slanted gold bars of the day
Smelling of all-night salt rain on the docks
Of grief Of birth Of bergamot Of May

In the wind that lifts the harbor litter
Wet against my fingers in a dream
Salvaging among the tideline’s bitter
gleanings Generous Exigent Lush and lean

Your voice A tune I thought I had forgotten
The taste of cold July brook on my tongue
A fire built on thick ice in the winter
The place where lost and salvaged meet and fit
The cadences a class in grief is taught in
The sound when frozen rivers start to run

Copyright © 2013 by Suzanne Gardinier. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-a-Day on March 4, 2013.

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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.

Suzanne Gardinier, from Night Journey, for Mahmoud Darwish

Suzanne Gardinier, Iridium and P.O.P (Poets on Poetry)

Suzanne Gardinier – Poetry Society of America

Suzanne Gardinier – Poetry Society of America.