Brendan Kennelly and Katerina Anghelaki Rooke Myth of the City, Crete 1995
POEM FROM A CONVALESCENT POET
For Brendan Kennelly
Who knows what nature plans for us
how it thinks to finish us
or even risks to have us feel reborn...
It is like those landscapes you contemplate
where everything seems in its right place
pine trees and olive groves
the small cauldrons full of blood
that tiny organisms carry around
without ever running out of breath...
And how come everything is where it is
this root, this man's long ear -
how today's sun set
like a mute child falling off its chair
and this dry limb of a tree I call my body
how did it catch fire?
Most of all, how does nature know
to include the arbitrary in its flawless desing
how do I succumb to my “tristia”
how did you rise from your bed
to fall upon yet another?
Katerina Anghelaki Rooke
translation from the Greek by the author
Athens 2. November 1996
(Odysseas Elytis birthday: Born 2/11/1911)
Poets and Poetry in motion
If you wish to take poetry with you, speak with the pavement
especially in cities where people prepare for an uncertain future,
but if you do so, make sure not to forget to look up to see the blue sky!
Life passes by, and nothing stands still, but time after time we see the stars,
and streets become rivers in which poets fish for daily quotes about life!
But if people cannot listen to their own poetic voice, doubt shall not make a dent
in a system inclined to make us into cynics who merely hope things will work out.