Neon minted, dance of starlight
descending in flare of simplicity
descending in boat of storm
a temple fiery with language, pales
in the stampede, the deluge
dins and palpates, churning of jar tombs.
Rising, the sea breaks ground,
recipient of dead flowers.
Pollinated with pesticide
in pregnant pauses & throes
cats twisting in gold dust
merrily dancing in their skin.
Neck to groin, clad in vintage
sea is ochre, orgasming in cove
sea knows time raws all
to nettles, pieces, vacancies.
Neon minted, dance of starlight
descending in flare of simplicity
descending in boat of storm
a temple fiery with language, pales
in vision, intricate rim roaring
late evening into pools of aurora
padding to center of fire
this sea - where nothing stays still.
This is my own interpretation from this cryptic poem provided by Marina:
Ne-om aminti cândva târziu
de-aceasta întâmplare simpla,
de-aceasta banca unde stam
tâmpla fierbinte lânga tâmpla.
de-aceasta întâmplare simpla,
de-aceasta banca unde stam
tâmpla fierbinte lânga tâmpla.
De pe stamine de alun,
din plopii albi, se cerne jarul.
Orice-nceput se vrea fecund,
risipei se deda Florarul.
Polenul cade peste noi,
în preajma galbene troiene
alcatuieste-n aur fin
Pe umeri cade-ne si-n gene.
Ne cade-n gura când vorbim,
si-n ochi, când nu gasim cuvântul.
Si nu stim ce pareri de rau
ne tulbura, piezis, avântul.
Ne-om aminti cândva târziu
de-aceasta întâmplare simpla,
de-aceasta banca unde stam
tâmpla fierbinte lânga tâmpla.
de-aceasta întâmplare simpla,
de-aceasta banca unde stam
tâmpla fierbinte lânga tâmpla.
Visând, întrezarim prin doruri -
latente-n pulberi aurii –
paduri ce ar putea sa fie
si niciodatã nu vor fi.
latente-n pulberi aurii –
paduri ce ar putea sa fie
si niciodatã nu vor fi.
Wow.. You could really create a poem of sheer beauty.. Love the way it waves you like the subject itself .. the sea.
ReplyDeletehaha...wow...blown away a bit...you made it into something i can understand...but also wove the thoughts together nicely....the movement of the water in it....the crash w/ dead flowers....the never staying still in the end...clad in the sea...lots of good stuff going on....
ReplyDeleteoops i found my own to translate...may need to retry with hers...
Brian - I did the same thing! I don't have time to work on this one, but Grace seems to have aced it.
Deletethe words carry exquisite beauty and tremendous power that's literally felt...wow !!
ReplyDeletecats twisting in gold dust
ReplyDeletemerrily dancing in their skin... very cool... yours makes sense and still you managed to keep the sounds of the words close... kudos... really well done grace
This cat would like to twist in gold dust, could then be rich without a hitch lol
ReplyDeleteExcellent job indeed - you've managed to stay so true to the original sounds in the poem and the rhythm. I love your imagery and the consistent build of your metaphor. Very, very impressed, Grace.
ReplyDeleteI love the movement in your interpretation, Grace.
ReplyDeleteLike those who've come before me I was struck by "cats twisting in gold dust". An inventive write and a pleasant read :)
ReplyDeleteKudos, Grace, your poem is real, skirts dada, & becomes esoteric. Love those gold dust kitties dancing in their own skin. You really rocked the prompt, the phonetics were bent to your will.
ReplyDeleteRaw, dramatic, sad, beautiful - very powerful. Wonderful read.
ReplyDeleteI felt the sparkle. Very nice.
ReplyDeletegreat interpretation, really dug
ReplyDeleteintricate rim roaring
late evening into pools of aurora
Some really beautiful images in your poem, Grace! Well-done.
ReplyDeleteOoh, you've made a thing of beauty in your interpretation.
ReplyDeleteI am truly in awe - after reading this, I think I will be disappointed with the "real" translation…
ReplyDeleteGreat translation Grace, so very well done, you have created some great images.
ReplyDeleteCertainly you are very close to original poem, I would think.. it's beautiful, Grace.
ReplyDeleteGrace, I am not sure what the translation really is but, this turned out beautiful.
ReplyDeleteWow! That sea moves from Stampeding to Orgasm! So much more powerful than a temple. Love how you give it that touch of Grace!
ReplyDeletewow, Grace ...amazing .
ReplyDeletewow..Grace that's a very beautiful poem..
ReplyDeleteWell goodness. Now I'm star-struck! These are my favorites:
ReplyDelete"Pollinated with pesticide"
"Neck to groin, clad in vintage
sea is ochre, orgasming in cove
sea knows time raws all
to nettles, pieces, vacancies"
the last line
Oh, that's so beautiful and clever!
ReplyDeleteGorgeous imagery, Grace--you've made so much out of the incomprehensible sounds of foreign words.
ReplyDeleteI had to go over to d'verse to see the prompt--good lord almighty, this is visceral from the gut imagery that reminds me a mural on a large wall but painted by 10 different artists of competence. Nothing consistent in it from line to line but overall when you stand back it is like looking at a Picasso.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written! x
ReplyDelete