Photography: Kylli Sparre
The night descends
like a chorus of black birds-
Their throats silk
of velvet
and fever
of silver and murmurings.
The night seeds
burning tar streaks
on your hand.
What shadows clamor
is sulfur, melting language
to blood-red liquid
Here, then, is the night,
its skin
stripped bare,
on your palm, blue flame.
Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Inspired by David Huerta's Fruit as translated by Mark Schafer & Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~
Very true to Huerta, with the Grace touch of magic realism.
ReplyDeleteFascinating translation of Huerta's poem, for it parallels the inspiration stanza for stanza while at the same time finding a second translation of the image of fruit into one of night. The ode is a paean, a worship of still-life; as Rilke said, "Praising is what matters!", and so much does here. Is it alchemy that finds fruit in the night or vice versa? The result is so juicy either way. Kudos, Grace, and thanks for the wonderful challenge. The poems I've read so far at Toads really found starjuice in Huerta.
ReplyDeleteand that flame spiraled towards the universe.
ReplyDeleteanyhow, we should welcome the night :-)
who knew that the night could hold so many colours!
ReplyDeleteYou have given a face to the night, Grace! Enjoy your weekend.
ReplyDeleteThe closing stanza is especially strong, I think, that feeling of the night held by a person, the night stripped bare rather than the person--very cool, Grace. k.
ReplyDeleteElegant, love esp. 'The night seeds
ReplyDeleteburning tar streaks
on your hand.'
i felt the struggle of this night in this... in a peaceful way
ReplyDeleteAnd I just melt into your 'melting language'.
ReplyDeletenice...interesting texture you give night....i like the allusions you use--they ive it life....olding a piece of night...now that would be pretty cool....
ReplyDeleteThe night filled with life, of blood and organisms.. Still works so well to describe in clear images of connectedness - a lovely prompt Grace.
ReplyDeleteThe night sure has more than just pitch black, as life abounds within it
ReplyDeleteThanks for another interesting introduction to a skilled poet.
ReplyDeletenight seeds
ReplyDeleteburning tar streaks
on your hand... think that is my fav part here though all the images are amazing as we're used from you..
That is real good. The "disrobing" of night in your words create powerful images. And I loved the closing lines. :-)
ReplyDelete-HA
WOW!!!!!!! This poem is amazing. The image of the night as descending blackbirds......fantastic! Beautiful to read, line by line, down to "on your palm, blue flame". Beautiful writing, Grace.
ReplyDeleteBreathtaking images here.
ReplyDeleteWow....I love the texture you give night, beautiful!
ReplyDeleteacute images in your night
ReplyDeleteHave a nice Sunday
http://myblog-verses.blogspot.com/
much love...
The night seeds burning tar streaks on your hand...so many wonderful images here. Beautiful
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful response to the style of Huerta's writing but the descriptive quality rings of your unique style. This was a pleasure to read.
ReplyDeleteGrace such powerful images and senses brought into the night...fabulous!
ReplyDeleteAmazing words..a kaleidoscopic night..so lively ...wonderful! :-)
ReplyDeleteI really liked the last stanza Grace..in the night stripped bare for in darkness one can find light.
ReplyDeleteSo many powerful images.to choose from as a whole they work as certain as dark black ink sinking into paper and mind
ReplyDeletethis is a moving piece...the last few lines leave a haunting visual.
ReplyDeleteA well painted night.
ReplyDeleteZQ
So beautiful...a fantastic capture of the mood of Huerta with the beauty of your originality.
ReplyDeleteThe opening line "The night descends like a chorus of black birds" really resonated with me - though I'm not exactly sure why. The title is inspired. As always, lovely writing.
ReplyDeleteDark and alluring imagery and I enjoy how you've employed the use of the hand as well. Thank you so much for the challenge, Grace.
ReplyDeleteI normally don't question someone's creativity, but why did you end this poem with "blue flame" in the palm?
ReplyDeleteThe sulfur, when melted into blood red liquid, becomes a blue flame, which you can vividly see at night, smiles ~
Deletea sweet and sour feeling this night gives, but ultimate peace resides in the darkness and quietness of night:)
ReplyDeleteWhat a rich and beautiful piece..as satisfying as the deepest pot of treacle consumed in pure joy
ReplyDeleteThe night has been reserved for the poets and artists for millennium.
ReplyDeleteYou have a wonderful feel for this poet's vision, Grace. The imagery here is striking, intense, just surreal enough to make one question one's perceptions, and filled with beautiful language throughout. Thanks for the challenge!
ReplyDeleteYou went into deep places here, Grace. I do like your comparison of the coming of night to an alchemy transformation, sizzling down to the palm of the hand. Certainly if we aren't considering or knowledgeable of planetary science 'Night' and its coming is a mystery to be explained.
ReplyDeleteBTW, did you notice the repetition in Huerta's prayer? The use of the word " it" stood out for me. He used the word nine times and then also an "it's" and an "its".
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I love those opening lines!
ReplyDeleteamazing Grace and the picture is fantastic!!
ReplyDeleteSo vivid. Well written.
ReplyDeleteThis is why the night is magic...the time for poets :)
ReplyDeleteGorgeous. I love it.
ReplyDeleteThis is such an atmospheric poem, Grace. The opening lines set the tone very powerfully.
ReplyDeleteThis is so moody and sensual, Grace. The use of darkness has a very strong effect.
ReplyDeleteWow, Grace....this is .....dark but sensual to the max. It's haunting and that is a very good thing for poetry.
ReplyDeleteHugs, Jane
I wasn't familiar with the prompt, Grace, but as it stands alone, this poem invests the night with so many different dimensions, especially in moods. I love the brevity and direct impact that is felt in this. Very fine work.
ReplyDeleteSteve K.
This is quintessentially you: the romance, the magical quality, the pull of darkness and light, the sensuousness of the words and poem. I think I can recognize your work in a sea of poems. :-)
ReplyDelete