By Vasko Popa
Translated with advent through Charles Simic. this is often the second one variation that comes with extra fabric. Winner of the PEN Translation Prize
Simic's advent within reason erudite. I learn it after analyzing a few 3rd of the textual content. regardless of being a really attention-grabbing introduction--concerning delusion to no small degree--it didn't rather give a contribution to my realizing of the decisions I had learn. it really is poetry even though, and maybe 3 or 4 readings needs to move (over a number of seasons, even) ahead of these kind of connections will mature and endure fruit.
I did get pleasure from those poems. there's a humor to them that's tricky to explain (again, i don't imagine Simic's introductory feedback at the humor shed any mild on those poems on the moment). additionally, every thing I've learn to date is like a brief cycle--so I'm reluctant to submit only a unmarried poem.
Here's the publisher's description, etc.:
Winner of the PEN Translation Prize.
Our first model of this option from one in every of jap Europe's significant figures offered out. the hot model provides sequences--"Give Me again My Rags" and "Heaven's Ring"--as good as a few formerly unpublished sections of the justly recognized sequence, "The Little Box." Simic and Popa are an ideal fit. A e-book for surrealists, mythographers, postmodernists, scientists, and fans of poetry and games.
Charles Simic can also be the translator of Novica Tadic's evening Mail: chosen Poems.
IN THE VILLAGE OF MY ANCESTORS
Someone embraces me
Someone appears to be like at me with the eyes of a wolf
Someone takes to the air his hat
So i will see him better
Everyone asks me
Do you understand how I'm concerning you
Unknown outdated males and women
Appropriate the names
Of younger women and men from my memory
I ask one in all them
Tell me for God's sake
Is George the Wolf nonetheless living
That's me he answers
With a voice from the subsequent world
I contact his cheek with my hand
And beg him with my eyes
To inform me if I'm residing too
translated by way of Charles Simic
Read Online or Download Homage to the Lame Wolf: Selected Poems (FIELD Translation Series, Volume 12) PDF
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Extra info for Homage to the Lame Wolf: Selected Poems (FIELD Translation Series, Volume 12)
We saw the parallels, but we, not him, braced against the walls and dreamt of rupture. Then came the birdless Monday when he moaned: "I'm dying. " He did, but it was not, praised be the Lord. That was three days ago. The layer out then bathed his body, strapped him to a board, and tied his legs so his soul couldn't walk. Blue fingers were so curled into his palm we kept them straight by fixing them to sticks. We tied his goitered chin so Lucifer and witches couldn't coven on his tongue. We placed two copper pennies on the eyes that nevermore would see they couldn't see.
I wept, which I did not expect to do. That's the story best as I can tell it. I'd like to sleep in but still wake at four my tongue outstretched where Babel has been razed. We've sold his library to pay his debts and buy Deborah that harpsichord inside. < previous page page_27 next page > < previous page page_28 next page > Page 28 Well, sir, you may enter at your leisure. We're grateful for your visit, but I didn't hear your name. Peter? That is strange, In "Lycidas," St. Pewell, never mind. You've come for Papa, he's laid out within.
The tip of his brush strokes the place where the back of her ear meets her neck. If he were different, he thinks, he would put down his palette, press his lips into that tight tent of flesh. Instead he captures it in oil: no man to risk permanent work for passing pleasure. The woman turns an indolent page, shifts: a rearranging of his props. II. The Woman She reflects on the light, knows her profile delicate as a Belleek tea cup, with a luster as translucent, but knows too how this light spoils, how the sun passing through the eye of the window will rise on shoulders other than hers.