Monthly Archives: May 2013

Mama, Sis by Kim So-wol

(translated from the Korean by geul)

 

Mama, sis, let’s live by the river.

In the yard, the glisten of golden sand,

 

Out back, the song of fallen leaves,

Mama, sis, let’s live by the river.

 

About Kim So-wol

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Stopping by a Blog on a Slow Evening

 

 

Whose blog this is I think I know.
The style of writing surely shows.
He cannot stop from posting here;
He loves to see his readers grow.

My mini tab’ must think it queer
To stop without a reason clear.
With so much to surf on the net
The dullest evening of the year.

How many years since we first met?
It was the dawn of internet.
He then a private blog did keep
About his dog and student debt.

This blog of his is new and deep;
But I have better things to peep,
And much to surf before I sleep,
And much to surf before I sleep.

 

 


“In Lieu of an Introduction” from Max Blecher’s Transparent Body

(translated from the Romanian by geul)

In lieu of an introduction*

 

Bird words with wings of blood
Words flying crazy in the chambers of the heart

Animals at times with transparencies of sky
Bouquets of astral worlds (comets with heads of dancers)

Strange flowers perfuming the brain
Signifying a smile or on the contrary a joy

Apparitions and disparitions in the darkness of the days
Or vultures flapping whitely over mountains of sleep

Lunar vitrines with angels and swords
With wolves, with cities, with ships, with women’s hair

Words, uncomprehended sketches of this writing
Like my hands, like your closed eyes.

*This is the opening poem of Max Blecher’s poetry collection Transparent Body (Corp Transparent).

About Max Blecher

 


Mirabeau Bridge by Guillaume Apollinaire

(translated from the French by geul)

 

Under Mirabeau Bridge flows the Seine
And our love
Must I remember
Joy always followed pain

Let night come sound the hour
The days go by I remain

Hands together let’s stand face to face
While under
the bridge of our arms wafts
the weary wave of our eternal gaze

Let night come sound the hour
The days go by I remain

Love goes away like this flowing river
Love flows away
Oh, life’s leaden pace
How violent – Hope!

Let night come sound the hour
The days go by I remain

The days pass and the weeks flee
Neither the past
Nor our love returns
Under Mirabeau Bridge flows the Seine

Let night come sound the hour
The days go by I remain

click here for the original French version


Self-portrait

 

 

I can barely look at the word forty-five

 

It has nothing to do with me.

 

It’s relentless progress I’ve

dropped out of.

 

It’s February, I’m three months closer to

forty-six.

I spend my days counting time – is it already

fifteen minutes later? Has it been six weeks since?

 

In a dull suspense –

feeling somehow cheated but knowing

everything’s in perfect order.

 

All day I spend sitting in bed, for  it’s winter

and there it’s warmer

in semi-hibernation like practicing

for the tomb.