National Poetry Month

[brigdh]

Poem by Pablo Neruda, translated by Kenneth Rexroth

I remember you as you were that last autumn-
Your grey beret, your calm heart,
And the flames of sunset wrestling in your eyes,
And the leaves falling into the waters of your soul.

You clung to my arm like a vine.
The leaves caught up your slow calm voice-
Vertiginous hearth where my heart blazes-
Sweet blue hyacinth twisting over my soul.

I can feel your eyes, voyaging away, distant as that autumn,
Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart of a huntress-
Where all my deep agony migrated.
Where my happy kisses fell like embers.

The skies from shipboard, fields from the hills.
Your memory is of light, of smoke, of a still pool.
Deep in your eyes the twilights burned.
The dry leaves of autumn whirled in your soul.

Comments

[cellophane_ria.livejournal.com]

Oooh, Pablo Neruda! I remember reading him first from the yellowish newspaper clipping my mother saved from somewhere. Heh. Beautiful post, as always.

[wordsofastory.livejournal.com]

Oh, that's a lovely introduction. Thanks!

[catiechu.livejournal.com]

The feel of this reminds me of D.H. Lawrence's Alexandrian Quartet. Have you read any of those books? :o

[wordsofastory.livejournal.com]

I haven't, but I've heard of them and really want to read them. I think I have a copy around here somewhere even...

[catiechu.livejournal.com]

If not, I'm reading them now and would be happy to loan them to you when I'm finished. :) I actually picked up the whole set at a swap meet for $1, without even knowing what they were at the time. I just thought the illustrations on the box were really cool.

And ajfkshgkuhseuhg I meant Lawrence Durrell, even. Now sure where I got D.H. from. But yeah, I really like his writing throughout, though he tends to be a bit dramatic at turns, occasionally he manages these really outstanding images and scenes.