Friday, October 9, 2015
A Smart Time
An Estonian poet and a Tamil poet today. Both poems are from Words Without Borders.
Evening Fare
by Kaur Riismaa, translated by Miriam McIlfratrick
This is a smart time, I think as I sit and eat a sandwich in the kitchen.
Tomorrow is sorted, the hayracks ready, the tools even stowed in the shed,
your magnificent culinary creation needs one more hour,
(no, bread and ham won’t ruin my appetite, I don’t want to pig myself later).
Actually, I could even go for a swim, do a length of the lake,
read the rest here
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Mother and the Goddess of Night
by Aazhiyaal, translated by Lakshmi Holmström
She has walked and walked
for nine long days.
All of nine days
and nine long nights
have passed by.
Weary of wandering as she is,
the mad woman mutters brokenly,
"Have you seen my daughter?
have you seen her?"
All along the paths she takes
the heavy clouds freeze—a thousand
birds fly past her in scorn
and the wind howls aloud.
read the rest here
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Poetry Friday round-up host is at Writing the World for Kids.
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13 comments:
Thanks for sharing these. Must explore that website more. Especially liked "Evening Fare" -- the in-between time, dusk, with so many great details and reflections. Quite a meal. :)
Well, I don't know the site so thanks for that, Tabatha. That first one reminds me of Frost telling stories. I love the line "Tomorrow is sorted", connects to me making the days work, I hope! The other feels like a part of us moving toward our All Hallow's Eve, but Hecate represents more, & is this touching (today) the poignant stories of the immigrants from Syria? Maybe I read too much into it, but I enjoyed the reading & thinking about it.
Dear Tabatha - may your tomorrows never be sorted! (Not sure why I bristle against that line, which is simply lovely... maybe because I want to walk in mystery?? Who knows, but i bet you will. :) thank you for the poems. xo
I agree with Irene. That line "Tomorrow is sorted." doesn't ring true. Our lives are always changing, so tomorrow's sorting may well change by morning time.
What a great site you shared. I enjoyed these poems.
What a great site! I am basking in these lines:
And as all living things thrilled
into renewal, a fine rain fell
throughout the hemisphere
ushering in the spring.
and waiting for such such a rain for our very muddled universe.
Read more: http://wordswithoutborders.org/article/the-mother-and-the-goddess-of-night#ixzz3o69yvNsS
That second one really enchants me, Tabatha--esp the age of her with her hounds and torches, tearing through the darkness. Lovely. Unlike the others, I like tomorrow being sorted. I don't want ALL my future sorted, but being co tent and prepared for tomorrow makes me feel cozy, not confined...thanks for sharing!
"Turnips and time, pork and posterity..."
Need I say how much I like this?
Smiling at the comments about 'tomorrow is sorted'. Grazier's wife that I am, I've heard that phrase many times. In my life it means he's done all the things that need to be readied for tomorrow's jobs... Nothing is pressing for attention, or hanging on his conscience. Now is the time to relax at the end of a long (hard) day. This poem is so familiar-yet-different that I had to smile many times while reading it.
As a teacher, too, it's a good feeling to have tomorrow sorted--it means that everything WITHIN your control is taken care of, so that you can meet the inevitable what's OUTSIDE your control with grace. : )
That 2nd poem is just grippingly mysterious--one of those ones where to inhabit the poem one doesn't have to "get it."
And thanks for the dancing video!
Heidi, re: the second poem, do you know the story of Demeter and Persephone? I always found it very moving, even before I became a mom. I thought it was also fitting, what with winter coming.
I agree with your assessment of getting our tomorrows sorted!
Such a thought-provoking pair of poems, and all these comments, too! I had the same initial response Linda did re. being reminded of the Syrian crisis.
Thanks for sharing.
I totally knew that the mother was Demeter, but at the same time she was so real and mortal, her grief so raw, that she could have been any mother whose child is missing. Oh, the blackness of that sorrow, and oh, the green of her relief!
I recognized the second as inspired by the story of Persephone. But like Mary Lee, I was touched by how "real" it came across. An amazing adaptation.
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