Wednesday, 24 November 2010

Wakas

Nagbabago ang mundo. Nararamdaman mo ba
ang pagyanig, ang pagbitak ng lupa,
ang paggalaw ng ating kinalalagyan
papalayo sa isa't isa?

Ikaw ay nasa kabilang dako ng tulay at sinisigaw ko
ang pangalan mo sa gitna ng mga gusaling gumuguho.
At matatabunan ang lahat ng kadiliman.

Magigising ako at makikita ang bagong mundo,
walang alaala ng nakalipas.

Ito ang simula. Ito ang ating wakas.

Sunday, 14 November 2010

You have to understand. I'm jealous of everything that moves. I'm jealous of the rain!

-The End of the Affair (1999)

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

from Canti




XXXVII


ALCETA

Listen, Melisso: I want to tell you a dream
I had last night, which comes to mind,
seeing the moon again. I was standing
at the window that looks out on the meadow
staring up, when suddenly the moon
unhooked herself. And it seemed to me
that as she fell,
the nearer she got the bigger she looked, until
she hit the ground in the middle of the meadow,
big as a bucket, and vomited
a cloud of sparks that shrieked as loud
as when you dunk a live coal in the water
and drown it. So, as I said,
the moon died in the middle of the meadow,
little by little slowly darkening,
and the grass was smoking all around.
Then, looking up into the sky, I saw
something still there, a glimmer or a shadow,
or the niche that she'd been torn away from,
which made me cold with fear. And I'm still anxious.


MELISSO

You were right to be afraid, when the moon
fell so easily into your field.




ALCETA

Who knows? Don't we often see
stars fall in summer?


MELISSO

                      There are so many stars
that if one or another of them falls
it's no great loss, since there are thousands left.
But there's just this one moon up in the sky,
which no one saw fall ever—except in dreams.

- Giacomo Leopardi (translated by Jonathan Galassi)

Enough

It's a gift, this cloudless November morning
warm enough for you to walk without a jacket
along your favorite path. The rhythmic shushing
of your feet through fallen leaves should be
enough to quiet the mind, so it surprises you
when you catch yourself telling off your boss
for a decade of accumulated injustices,
all the things you've never said circling inside you.

It's the rising wind that pulls you out of it,
and you look up to see a cloud of leaves
swirling in sunlight, flickering against the blue
and rising above the treetops, as if the whole day
were sighing, Let it go, let it go,
for this moment at least, let it all go



- Jeffrey Harrison 

 

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