Venice masks

Sunday, 31 May 2015

Come To Me, O Christ - Paramahansa Yogananda

O Christ—Thou rarest flower of hearts—Thou didst sail on the storm-tossed lake of prejudiced minds. Its evil-scented, gloomy thought-waves lashed Thy lily-tender soul. They crucified Thee with their evil. Yet Thou didst shed the aroma of goodness and forgiveness, and didst help them to be purified by remorse, so helping them to become attractively sweet-scented with Thine all-loving Flower-Soul.

Saturday, 30 May 2015

The road nonpareil - Nicolae Sirius

The only road I knew without fail was your heart.
I knew it better than the dream in the hymn
Praising spring. Better than homesickness
And despondence, or the wind recapping the psalms
Of movement through fragrant valleys
Joined to restless water-courses.

Friday, 29 May 2015

This country nurtured hope - Godfrey Mutiso Gorry

This country nurtured hope decayed,
The politician cruises on a 4WD guzzler,
The thief.
Feeling the base of his belly.

Thursday, 28 May 2015

Phaedra, Act V Scene 6 (lines 11-83) - Jean Racine

Scarcely had we emerged from Troezen’s gate:
He drove his chariot, and his soldiery
Were ranged about him, mute and grave as he.
Brooding, he headed toward Mycenae. Lax
In his hands, the reins lay on his horses' backs.
His haughty chargers, quick once to obey
His voice, and give their noble spirits play,
Now, with hung head and mournful eye, seemed part
Of the sad thoughts that filled their master's heart.

Wednesday, 27 May 2015

Elegy in stone - Marcelo Ensema Nsang

I speak to you of my destiny when I die,
one afternoon, beside the virgin fountain,
at the edge
of my final memory.

Tuesday, 26 May 2015

Clara d'Ellébeuse - Francis Jammes

Down the years it’s Clara d’Ellébeuse
I love, who went to old-time boarding schools
and came, warm evenings, under linden trees
to read her magazines of other days.

Monday, 25 May 2015

The Ant Explorer - Clarence James Dennis

Once a little sugar ant made up his mind to roam —
To fare away far away, far away from home.

Sunday, 24 May 2015

Pentecost - Annette Freün von Droste-Hülshoff

The day was still, the sun's bright glare
Fell sheer upon the Temple's beauteous wall
Withered by tropic heat, the air
Let, like a bird, its listless pinions fall.
Behold a group, young men and gray,
And women, kneeling; silence holds them all;
They mutely pray!

Saturday, 23 May 2015

The City - Eeva-Liisa Manner

How the houses have grown in this city,
the chasms deepened, the water become blacker,

Thursday, 21 May 2015

Silken shoes - Jens Peter Jacobsen

Silken shoes upon golden lasts!
I’ve won a maiden fair!
The fairest maiden waits for me!

Wednesday, 20 May 2015

Vondel's Lucifer (Act I, lines 51-95) - Joost van den Vondel

Apollion:
I'll pass my journey thither by nor tell
How downward sweeping through nine spheres I sped.
That swift as arrows round their centre whirl.

Tuesday, 19 May 2015

I Loved You - Aleksandr Pushkin

I loved you; and perhaps I love you still,
The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet
It burns so quietly within my soul,
No longer should you feel distressed by it.

Sunday, 17 May 2015

XIV - Nahuatl indian (anonymous)

Only the tzinitzcan is in power, the tzinitzcan arouses me in my affliction, letting fall its songs like sad flowers.

Saturday, 16 May 2015

A Silent Mouth - Cathal O’Byrne

O little green leaf on the bough, you hear
       the lark in the morn,
You hear the grey feet of the wind stir in
       the shimmering corn,
You hear low down in the grass
‘The singing Shee as they pass;
Do you ever hear, O little green flame! -
My loved one calling, calling, whispering
       my name?

Friday, 15 May 2015

We remember him - Anonymous

When we are weary and in need of strength,
When we are lost and sick at heart,
We remember him.

Thursday, 14 May 2015

Voices are heard - Rafael Felipe Oteriño

Like rolling rings,
or drops of honey, or mirrors,
or teeth unearthed
by raging water
they've begun to rise.

Wednesday, 13 May 2015

Far Within Us #1 - Vasko Popa

We raise our arms
The street climbs into the sky
We lower our eyes
The roofs go down into the earth

Tuesday, 12 May 2015

Pigtail - Tadeusz Różewicz

When all the women in the transport
had their heads shaved
four workmen with brooms made of birch twigs
swept up
and gathered up the hair

Behind clean glass
the stiff hair lies
of those suffocated in gas chambers
there are pins and side combs
in this hair

The hair is not shot through with light
is not parted by the breeze
is not touched by any hand
or rain or lips

In huge chests
clouds of dry hair
of those suffocated
and a faded plait
a pigtail with a ribbon
pulled at school
by naughty boys.

Tadeusz Różewicz (1921 - 2014) Poland
Translated by Adam Czerniawski

Monday, 11 May 2015

A Damascene Moon - Nizar Qabbani

Green Tunisia, I have come to you as a lover
On my brow, a rose and a book
For I am the Damascene whose profession is passion

Sunday, 10 May 2015

Sonnet LXXII. A Prayer for Aid - Michelangelo Buonarroti

Oh, make me see Thee, Lord, where'er I go!
      If mortal beauty sets my soul on fire,
      That flame when near to Thine must needs expire,
      And I with love of only Thee shall glow.

Saturday, 9 May 2015

Lament I - Jan Kochanowski

Come, Heraclitus and Simonides,
Come with your weeping and sad elegies:
Ye griefs and sorrows, come from all the lands
Wherein ye sigh and wail and wring your hands:

Friday, 8 May 2015

For Tony Benn - Julian Dobson

It's not your pipe or plummy voice
nor your posh-boy turned working class
mutation that I celebrate.

Thursday, 7 May 2015

Elysium - Friedrich von Schiller

Past the despairing wail
And the bright banquets of the Elysian vale
Melt every care away!

Wednesday, 6 May 2015

Outside History - Eavan Boland

These are outsiders, always. These stars—
these iron inklings of an Irish January,
whose light happened
thousands of years before

Tuesday, 5 May 2015

To See Him Again - Gabriela Mistral

Never, never again?
Not on nights filled with quivering stars,
or during dawn's maiden brightness
or afternoons of sacrifice?

Sunday, 3 May 2015

Sonnet XXX - Fernando Pessoa

I do not know what truth the false untruth
Of this sad sense of the seen world may own,

Saturday, 2 May 2015

Through Foulest Fogs - Bysshe Vanolis

Through foulest fogs of my own sluggish soul,
Through midnight glooms of all the wide world's guilt,
Through sulphurous cannon-clouds that surge and roll
Above the steam of blood in anger spilt;

Friday, 1 May 2015

Stay - Ingeborg Bachmann

Now the journey is ending,
the wind is losing heart.
Into your hands it's falling,
a rickety house of cards.