RESURRECTION
Poetry slips into dreams
like a diver in a lake.
Poetry, braver than anyone,
slips in and sinks
like lead
through a lake infinite as Loch Ness
or tragic and turbid as Lake Balaton.
Consider it from below:
a diver
innocent
covered in feathers
of will.
Poetry slips into dreams
like a diver who's dead
in the eyes of God.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Lovely.
Dark and lovely as the profession it describes so well.
Your translation?
It's like a Dark Side photographic negative to neruda's more positive "oda al buzo."
Thanks for sharing this.
No, this translation comes from the volume that New Directions published last year "Romantic Dogs".
Post a Comment