Our Fear
Our fear
does not wear a night shirt
does not have owl’s eyes
does not lift a casket lid
does not extinguish a candle
does not have a dead man’s face either
our fear
is a scrap of paper
found in a pocket
‘warn Wójcik
the place on Dluga Street is hot’
our fear
does not rise on the wings of the tempest
does not sit on a church tower
it is down-to-earth
it has the shape
of a bundle made in haste
with warm clothing
provisions
and arms
our fear
does not have the face of a dead man
the dead are gentle to us
we carry them on our shoulders
sleep under the same blanket
close their eyes
adjust their lips
pick a dry spot
and bury them
not too deep
not too shallow
Translated By Czeslaw Milosz and Peter Dale Scott
Our Sadness
Our sadness
does not whisper in dark corners
does not leave lonely footsteps
does not mask itself in clouds
does not have the eyes of a child
does not expel the glorious
our sadness
is a biography
a steel screeched ending
still tugging on the bone skirts
our sadness
does not stand on reason’s edge
does not fold into drawers
it hangs itself up
let the clock
hide its trite mug
behind
folded arms
our sadness
does not expel the glorious
the glorious appears near
dusk when the river’s bruise
darkens until it reaches
the mouth-hole
the dust carries
each chipped
syllable up
to hang in the rafters
not too close
not too far
By Brandy Adams
You got some wonderful lines out of this improv, which you should definitely save for later. “Near / dusk when the river’s bruise / darkens” really strikes me as lovely and surreal, and let’s add the subsequent stanza to that.
ReplyDeleteNow the thing to do, since you have some great material, is to try to move away from the source material, of course. Some expansions, free writes, cross-subject-ing the piece – all exercises that may help the piece. Once you take the core feel of the draft and move away from the original improv, I bet you can cultivate a great “subject” out of this.
The only bit I wavered on was “its trite mug.” I see why, but I just don’t think it fits.