AUDIO OF THE DAY: Featured poet Lies Van Gasses REVOLUTION XXI (trans. Rosalind Buck) bit.ly/1s2FY1Z REVOLUTION XXI This morning when, after years, I emerged, my hair was wet, scales grew beneath my arms. Heat lingered on the skin like a false note. The chrysalids lay exposed. Maggots nibbled at my fingers, and growing took time. When my eyes also opened, up came the sun. Toads were suddenly silent. I felt almost sorry. There was a curtain blocking my view, and my fins stuck. I had learned nothing, but this spring gave me dead branches and a soft marsh. This was all I needed. I thought that even the biggest fish suck pain, that the softest land is sailable. I thought that where the ends meet, nothing means a thing anymore. There are strange currents in us, that drag us into peaks and troughs, but after years of sluggishness we swiftly overflow. We sail toward the end. Hunger pulls. I am a mast that picks up words, the ropes hard, but tight. © Translation: 2013, Rosalind Buck First published on Poetry International, 2014
Posted on: Fri, 31 Oct 2014 11:00:46 +0000
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