Thursday, May 24, 2012

Charles Bukowski / I'm In Love


I'M IN LOVE
by Charles Bukowski


she's young, she said,
but look at me,
I have pretty ankles,
and look at my wrists, I have pretty
wrists
o my god,
I thought it was all working,
and now it's her again,
every time she phones you go crazy,
you told me it was over
you told me it was finished,
listen, I've lived long enough to become a 
good woman,
why do you need a bad woman?
you need to be tortured, don't you?
you think life is rotten if somebody treats you
rotten it all fits,
doesn't it?
tell me, is that it? do you want to be treated like a 
piece of shit?
and my son, my son was going to meet you.
I told my son
and I dropped all my lovers.
I stood up in a cafe and screamed
I'M IN LOVE,
and now you've made a fool of me. . .
I'm sorry, I said, I'm really sorry.
hold me, she said, will you please hold me?
I've never been in one of these things before, I said,
these triangles. . .
she got up and lit a cigarette, she was trembling all 
over.she paced up and down,wild and crazy.she had
a small body.her arms were thin,very thin and when
she screamed and started beating me I held her
wrists and then I got it through the eyes:hatred,
centuries deep and true.I was wrong and graceless and
sick.all the things I had learned had been wasted.
there was no creature living as foul as I 
and all my poems were
false.




Saturday, May 12, 2012

Pablo Neruda / America, I Do Not Invoke Your Name in Vain


AMERICA, I DO NOT INVOKE
YOUR NAME IN VAIN
by Pablo Neruda
Translated by Jack Schmitt

America, I do not invoke your name in vain.
When I hold the sword to my heart,
when I endure the leaks in my soul,
when your new day
penetrates me thorough the windows,
I´m of and I´m in the light that produces me,
I live in the shade that determines me,
I sleep and rise in your essential dawn,
soaked in the sperm of your species,
nursed on the blood of your legacy.






Sunday, May 6, 2012

Pablo Neruda / I Will Come Back



Isla Negra
Photo by Triunfo Arciniegas
I WILL COME BACK
By Pablo Neruda
Translated by Alaistar Reid

Some time, man o woman, traveler,
afterwards, when I am not alive,
look here, look for me here
between the stonesw and the ocean,
in the light storming
in the foam.
Look here, look for me here,
for here is where I shall come, saying nothing,
no voice, no mounth, pure,
here I shall be again the movement
of the water, of
it’s wild heart
were is shall be both bost and found -
here I shall be perhaps both stone and silence.



Wednesday, May 2, 2012

William Carlos Williams / Poem

POEM
by William Carlos Williams

The Rose fades
and is renewed again
by its seed, naturally
but where
save in the poem
shall it go
to suffer no diminution
of its splendor

Pictures from Brueghel, 1962.