#669 - advertisement

 

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advertisement

 

a left hand splash

and road go

where are we say a thing

 

this is an advertisement

for the failure of words

and their announcement

 

little windows where we sell the view

and you can buy a piece thereof

 

in the shop where the clock’s

been taken down

so no one will notice the time

 

we advertise the words themselves

 

map being its own territory

 

I fidget and forget

their absence

and ours from them

 

a song is singing itself

drowning out

flag flies over

a little salute

 

make mine magic

the failing

gung often ho

 

protects defends

beats sweeps, so on

 

every poem for itself

praise paean

commercial

 

it’s catchy

advertorial too

up an hour before I am

 

hair still all day sleeping

wild as the wind it is from

 

let me have a hymn’sworth

make a motzanext

in your dreams

 

should there be payment

for what can’t be helped?

 

and just as ants and birds tell rain

 

tune always comes from thin air

no one ever mentions the money

 

ask for attention by way of a poem

that’s the best way to hide

esperanta serio #90 - du poemoj -- ne estas muzoj kaj trapasi

 

90

du poemoj

 

ne estas muzoj

 

jen la monto, de kiu ili forkuris

ekzilitoj estas ni nun

 

vi rigardas en vin mem

estas longa vojo malsupren

rigardu maldekstren rigardu dekstren                                                  

la trafiko estas en vi

tiu sovaĝa besta naturo

rigardante eksteren

la klara bluo

en kiu vi iras

plu ĉiufoje

 

 

 

there are no muses

 

behold the fled mountain

exiles are us

 

you look into yourself

it’s a long way down

eyes left eyes right

the traffic’s in you

that wild beast nature

peering out

the clear blue

in which you go

further each time

 

 

 

 

 

trapasi

 

poste lumo

disigas la spegulon

kaj tagoj kuniĝas

kiel vojo

tra ruliĝantaj montetoj

verdiĝis

griziĝis

mallumiĝis

 

 

step through

 

then light

takes the mirror apart

and days fall in

like a road

through rolling hills

gone green

gone grey

gone dark

esperanta traduko de poemo de Rumi 'Matureco estas Ĉio':

 

 

esperanta traduko de poemo de Rumi 'Matureco estas Ĉio'

 

Same kiel, kiam vi endormiĝas, vi foriras de la

ĉeesto de vi en la ĉeeston de vi

Kaj vi aŭdas de vi mem tion, kion vi pensas, estas dirita

al vi sekrete de iu en la sonĝo.

Ho bona amiko, vi ne estas ununura "vi": vi estas la

ĉielo kaj la profunda maro.

Via potenca senfina "Vi" estas la oceano en kiu miriadoj

de "vi" estas enprofundigitaj.

Ne parolu, por ke vi audas de la Parolantoj

tio kio ne estas eldirata aŭ priskribita.

Ne parolu, por ke la spirito parolu por vi: en la

kesto de Noa vi ne plu bezonas naĝi.

 

Rumi’s  ‘Ripeness is All’

 

            Just as, when thou fallest asleep, thou goest from the

                        presence of thyself into the presence of thyself

            And hearest from thyself that which thou thinkest is told

                        thee secretly by some one in the dream.

            O good friend, thou art not a single "thou": thou art the

                        sky and the deep sea.

            Thy mighty infinite "Thou" is the ocean wherein myriads

                        of "thou's" are sunken.

            Do not speak, so that thou mayst hear from the Speakers

                        what cannot be uttered or described.

            Do not speak, so that the spirit may speak for thee: in the

                        ark of Noah leave off swimming.

 

#668 - klein

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klein

many lives hide in my little name

 

for the philosophy of table tennis

 

skin so thick

well, what can you do?

take it travelling

paint yourself out of a corner

 

would you ever say really you had escaped?

 

some under the bed

and some in the cupboard

 

it’s like that Bob Marley song

you’re convincing another skin

running around the dining room table

 

could you ever be sure you were gone?

 

it’s a clean heart hope

and as for soul?

it may not be for us to know

 

but trust

all in the far and forever

sent or went?

you tell me

 

it’s chasing a little white ball

accept the facts as nature

 

go back to being

made joy yourself

 

imagine so innocent

dressups, sleepover

and now the secret has a reason

 

will you come when called?

all bills paid

pants down and show us

not on your life!

 

put away this world

play with another

 

things should have been told

had to find for ourselves

 

one can get into the rhythm of flight

little purple flower

or sit sulking wait

 

it’s like Béla said

the little ball’s trouble

we bat it away

 

kind of juggling you can’t do by yourself

it’s like a bullet, a grenade

hit it back over to the other side

usually it comes back

but what joy when it’s gone

the point’s yours

 

that music makes me

some from a tree to sit and sing

celluloid is a dream

every image etched

a story rolls through light

 

times the silence comes upon us

as of a single sadness made

 

like a bird looks for where the rain went

 

when it’s safe to come out

who will I be?

 

day vanishes where we go

 

even a little one like this

must be new name born

 

happily this is our ever after

 

and the punchline?

might have thought it was all imagined

            and we were fast in own dark then

but no, it’s that we were ghosts

each of us from birth

 

I always knew I’d get to the time

come upon our truth

 

there’s no next year Jerusalem

 

I supply the vastness

 

can go where you like

in the orchard

in the bee spun maze

 

now that we’ve come home

 

  

esperanta serio #89 - vojaĝante

 

89

vojaĝante

ni iras sen diri

 

estas sen diri

iuj el ili ja volas

rabi vin, trompi vin

stumbligi vin

donu al vi malhelpon

 

iuj scivolas, kion vi volas kun ili

al la malmultaj vi estas spektaklaj

al aliaj sennomaj rigardaduloj

eble vi estas kompatinda

kial vi estas tiel for de la hejmo?

kaj

kion vi faris?

(se vi ne estas kulpa, kial vi kuris?)

 

ofte ni iras sen diri

sufiĉas silenta kapjeso por servo

 

al la plimulto el ili tamen

vi estas kiel

nenio pasanta de nenie al nenie

brilanteta nun ĉi tie por esti for

ĝuste kiel fantomo devas fari

 

 

 

travelling

 

it goes without saying

some of them do want

to rob you, trick you

trip you up

give you let and hindrance

 

some wonder what you want with them

to the few you are spectacular

to other nameless peering folk

perhaps you’re to be pitied

why so far?

and

what have you done?

(if you’re not guilty, why did you run?)

 

often we go without saying

suffice a silent nod for service

 

to most of them though

you are like

nothing passing from nowhere to nowhere

glimmering now here to be gone

just the way a ghost must do

#667 - time (a grotesque)

 

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667

2.302

time

a grotesque

for godsbother

 

the wishbone what if

that old endlessness

tune of the heart

wild clock set upon

 

chestnut!

 

now resides in my speaking device

or only heavens tell

I check it every often so

 

leaf and flock

I, passenger

a cough

 

where we lived

in all dimensions

 

is pointed up

a juggling thing

will I resile?

 

to say

and sow

and reap the whirlwind

to deny

 

somebody thought a beginning was far

and never say never they said

 

the chapter verse

and pray for rain

 

light’s intricate tracery

taken to skin

 

here for a good time

then laying to waste

 

always

ever and day

cows to roost

all over the moon

chicken half way

and half way across

 

never tell me why

 

a candle brief

we all to it

longing out of scripture

into the open air

 

and we

day labourers

dreamfed too

come looking

for a rhyme

 

 

esperanta serio #88 - nevidite la mano retuŝanta la ĉielon

 

 

88

nevidite la mano retuŝanta la ĉielon

 

jen venas la kamparano el la malnova kanto

fadenmontraj horoj

 

osto kaj haŭto kaj ŝelo, panero

 

preter la rando de la klifo flosas plugilo

neniuj manoj

do la ĉielo estas kultivita

 

supre ili provas matraco-risortojn

por najli la ĉerkaj kovrilojn

 

 

 

unseen the hand touching up the sky

 

here comes the farmer from the old song

threadbare hours

 

bone and rind and crust and crumb

 

past the cliff’s edge a plough floats

no hands

so the sky is tilled

 

upstairs they’re testing mattress springs

to nail the coffins down