Interim Poetry

I should have mentioned it before, but I’ve been having a little blogging break. I seem to have done so much writing lately that I needed some breathing space and a little time to regroup. I’ll be back to writing proper posts very soon, I’m sure. In the meantime, I thought I’d offer you some poetry. I’ve been loving, loving the complete poems of Anne Sexton I was given for my birthday, particularly her Love Poems and Transformations. Okay so she was a living nightmare for her children, but my goodness me, that woman could write. I might post some bits and pieces from that tomorrow. But tonight, I thought I’d offer you something very beautiful by Pablo Neruda (with a little translation help from Mister Merwin). Enjoy.

The Morning Is Full

The morning is full of storm
in the heart of summer.

The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs of goodbye
the wind, traveling, waving them in its hands.

The numberless heart of the wind
beating above our loving silence.

Orchestral and divine, resounding among the trees
like a language full of wars and songs.

Wind that bears off the dead leaves with a quick raid
and deflects the pulsing arrows of the birds.

Wind that topples her in a wave without spray
and substance without weight, and leaning fires.

Her mass of kisses breaks and sinks,
assailed in the door of the summer’s wind.


7 thoughts on “Interim Poetry

  1. I have one of these favorite stanzas, too, Litlove, also by Mister Neruda with the help of Mister Merwin.

    I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
    distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.
    One word then, one smile, is enough.
    And I am happy, happy that it’s not true.

    Breathing space is essential, and time to recoup a tremendous blessing if you can find it. I’m on a little blogging break myself, having just installed Mom in the hospital with pneumonia. But don’t be still too long, please. And yes, a little Sexton would be nice.

  2. Ahh, I love Neruda! And I’ll be revisiting Sexton’s Transformations since it’s April’s Year of Reading Dangerously challenge book. I’m so excited! Which reminds me, I need to ILL a copy. Mine is with my mom halfway across the country.

  3. Such glorious stuff. I’d forgotten I’d got this book (after a previous triste with it on your blog). Will have to reindulge myself. I love the way the structures work, like putting their love at the still centre of the poem’s storm here, or how it pivots the two ideas in the verse from davidbale’s comment above across the middle of the verse. Such things take a while to sink in to my mind as Neruda mesmerises with his lines. I have to rely on Merwin’s translations, but I always like how poets can create such beauty and capture something we all see all the time out of ordinary things and language, as in ‘deflects the pulsing arrows of the birds’. I keep hearing and not hearing a line of English poetry behind that, but I can’t force it out of the shadows at the moment. Going to bug me all day now I bet like the half-remembered snatch of a song.

  4. Dear David – that is an achingly beautiful stanza from Neruda – your literary taste is always exquisite. I am so terribly sorry to hear about your mother though and send you both much love and hopes for a speedy recovery. Do let me know how it all goes – I’ll be thinking of you. Andi – Transformations has just blown me away – it’s incredible! I’m looking forward very much indeed to hearing what you’ll have to say about it. And you are a good daughter indeed to lend it to your mum! Bookboxed – those are wonderful things you have to say there about the poem – I’m so glad to know you have this book too! There are so many gorgeous poems in it (my eidition is bilingual but my Spanish is almost non-existent). Let me know if you track down that line of poetry.

  5. Stefanie – I felt the same way when I read about Adrienne Rich on your site the other day. So many good books, so little time. Sigh! Bloglily – you are more than welcome, my friend.

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