Poetry, Or My Daily Bread
I have been unable to write much poetry lately. It looks like my Muse is in quescient mode. But I keep reading poetry at least, being faithful to my motto that states: poetry is my daily bread. Reading Jack's translations, I could not help falling in love with Roque Dalton's work. The simple strength of the revolutionary Salvadoran poet does move me deeply. His "Like You" I have just learnt by heart.
Like you I
love love, life, the sweet smell
of things, the sky-
blue landscape of January days.
love love, life, the sweet smell
of things, the sky-
blue landscape of January days.
And my blood boils up
and I laugh through eyes
that have known the buds of tears.
I believe the world is beautiful
and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone.
and I laugh through eyes
that have known the buds of tears.
I believe the world is beautiful
and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone.
And that my veins don’t end in me
but in the unanimous blood
of those who struggle for life,
love,
little things,
landscape and bread,
the poetry of everyone.
but in the unanimous blood
of those who struggle for life,
love,
little things,
landscape and bread,
the poetry of everyone.
Comments
Post a Comment