Month: June 2017

from The Anger Poem by Horace

/ zdunno03 / 4 Comments

Anger is what broke Thyeste’s life
And many shining cities went down brick
By brick before anger, and aggressive
Battalions ran their ploughs in great

Delight over ground covering those walls.
Calm your mind. Heat tempted
Me in my sweet early days, and sent
Me deeply mad to one-sided poems. Now

I want to replace those sour lines with
Sweet lines; now, having sworn off harsh
Attacks, I want you to become
My friend, and give me back my heart.

translated by Robert Bly

fool: for Frank

/ zdunno03 / 8 Comments

zdunno03's avatarLeonard Durso

you sit in rooms
listening to people talking about
the bible/aquariums/carving coconuts
and struggle to keep your eyes open
you keep seeing her car instead
parked in someone else’s driveway
at night, all night, till morning
see the pictures in your head
of what transpires in the dark
fool, you say
missing what was never yours
fool, fool
fool

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Memories of Horses by Rolf Jacobsen

/ zdunno03 / 6 Comments

The lines in the hands of old people
gradually curve over and will point soon toward earth.
They take with them their secret language,
cloud-words and wind-letters,
all the signs the heart gathers up in the lean year.

Sorrow bleaches out and turns to face the stars
but memories of horses, women’s feet, children
flow from old people’s faces down to the grass kingdom.

In huge trees we can often see
images of the peace in the sides of animals,
and the wind sketches in the grass, if you are happy,
running children and horses.

translated by Robert Bly

The Old Clocks by Rolf Jacobsen

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The old clocks often have encouraging faces.
They are like those farmers in the big woods or in the mountains
Whose whole being contains some calm acceptance
As if they belonged to some other race than ours.
A race that has fought its way through its time down here
And has seen its unhappiness shrink back like grass
During that earlier period when the Earth was earth.

They are guests with us this time and they nod in tune to our distress
Next to our bed with their mild wisdom: it’s OK,
oh yes, oh yes, it’s OK, it’s OK.

translated by Robert Bly