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| Photography by Lucien Clergue |
STONE THAT GERMINATES
By Oscar Wong
By Oscar Wong
After you looked at me,
you left me with such grace and beauty
SAN JUAN DE LA CRUZ
As a sudden exuberant ray
Love descends.
With a claw it
opens furrows in the earth.
And grows the moss,
the pale slime, the tree
revered by its tribe.
And tenderness flourishes
on the dawn.
And the heart of the day rises
like the thick whispers
of rocks.
And the ocean begins
an impetuous exalted dance.
Here brilliance is reborn.
If you put your eyes in my eyes.
If you put your lips in my lips.
If the bee of your mouth buzzes outside
or the insatiable needle hungers for blood.
If you settle, thirsty, between my legs,
I would give you a love so dense, flowing, tender,
like it was being revealed for the first time to the world,
like it was a violet being torn for the first time.
Everything burns if I see you.
Every stone germinates if I love you.
You come as the birds sing outside of their season
and I drink you in as a stream
from where the angels bow.
Like a seductive slow dance,
like a fertile dew on the sand,
like the chastity of the hissing saint
before the smooth perfection of the immaculate figure
you are.
What arduous work is yours, Beloved: to be so beautiful.
The caw of the crow shakes me,
the flight of the Pegasus seduces me,
the birdsong of your voice sasiates me.
Without you, tender bee, the Universe makes no sense.
I conduct myself as a wild patriarch,
as your wise and profane prophet.
Beloved Queen of the Valley of Jovel,
of the most Sweetest and Terrible Face,
I know you come from where apple trees grow
and that in your eyes are the nests of beehives.
O so much honey spilling in the iris
and so much perfection in your shape.
Let the gold of my kisses keep you.
Let the rock of my song exhalt you.
Death cannot kill you.
You will never smell the damned scent of the tomb
even if you obey the rules of the flower,
the incorruptable slipping wheel of summer,
as they upset and harass your beauty.
Gazelles, crane and doe
as tender mothers they shelter you,
but I tremble as if the gloomy wind
of reality touches you.
I conspire in the presence of something eternal.
A brilliant tear of the sun:
I awoke to the serpent,
I saw the unicorn tremble,
I unleashed the furious dragon.
A frail lunatic sang
I listened to the slow rythm of silence,
for love I dive into the emptiness.
Who says that terror burns?
From the highest sphere I give my voice to the ocean.
And I palpitate
and I bristle,
and I declare my life
as a blind man.
I have broken the murky afternoon.
Bitter roses, briar, and bramble live in my heart
with roots that devour.
It is also a snoring fist.
But I come to you as a thirsty snail.
A crazy, pure, live coal that you fan
just before I become a blinding light.
I bow on enedible grass if you look at me.
My heart is shipwrecked with a sudden wave.
Sonorous light that you are,
in damp sand and tenderness.
you left me with such grace and beauty
SAN JUAN DE LA CRUZ
As a sudden exuberant ray
Love descends.
With a claw it
opens furrows in the earth.
And grows the moss,
the pale slime, the tree
revered by its tribe.
And tenderness flourishes
on the dawn.
And the heart of the day rises
like the thick whispers
of rocks.
And the ocean begins
an impetuous exalted dance.
Here brilliance is reborn.
If you put your eyes in my eyes.
If you put your lips in my lips.
If the bee of your mouth buzzes outside
or the insatiable needle hungers for blood.
If you settle, thirsty, between my legs,
I would give you a love so dense, flowing, tender,
like it was being revealed for the first time to the world,
like it was a violet being torn for the first time.
Everything burns if I see you.
Every stone germinates if I love you.
You come as the birds sing outside of their season
and I drink you in as a stream
from where the angels bow.
Like a seductive slow dance,
like a fertile dew on the sand,
like the chastity of the hissing saint
before the smooth perfection of the immaculate figure
you are.
What arduous work is yours, Beloved: to be so beautiful.
The caw of the crow shakes me,
the flight of the Pegasus seduces me,
the birdsong of your voice sasiates me.
Without you, tender bee, the Universe makes no sense.
I conduct myself as a wild patriarch,
as your wise and profane prophet.
Beloved Queen of the Valley of Jovel,
of the most Sweetest and Terrible Face,
I know you come from where apple trees grow
and that in your eyes are the nests of beehives.
O so much honey spilling in the iris
and so much perfection in your shape.
Let the gold of my kisses keep you.
Let the rock of my song exhalt you.
Death cannot kill you.
You will never smell the damned scent of the tomb
even if you obey the rules of the flower,
the incorruptable slipping wheel of summer,
as they upset and harass your beauty.
Gazelles, crane and doe
as tender mothers they shelter you,
but I tremble as if the gloomy wind
of reality touches you.
I conspire in the presence of something eternal.
A brilliant tear of the sun:
I awoke to the serpent,
I saw the unicorn tremble,
I unleashed the furious dragon.
A frail lunatic sang
I listened to the slow rythm of silence,
for love I dive into the emptiness.
Who says that terror burns?
From the highest sphere I give my voice to the ocean.
And I palpitate
and I bristle,
and I declare my life
as a blind man.
I have broken the murky afternoon.
Bitter roses, briar, and bramble live in my heart
with roots that devour.
It is also a snoring fist.
But I come to you as a thirsty snail.
A crazy, pure, live coal that you fan
just before I become a blinding light.
I bow on enedible grass if you look at me.
My heart is shipwrecked with a sudden wave.
Sonorous light that you are,
in damp sand and tenderness.
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