China Observed Through Greek Rain in Turkish Coffee
The drizzle
falls into my coffee
until it gets cold
and runs over
until it runs over
and clears
so the picture at the bottom
comes into sight.
The picture of a man
with a long beard
in China
in front of a Chinese pavilion
in rain, heavy rain
that has congealed
in stripes
over the windblown facade
and over the face of the man.
Under the coffee, the sugar and the milk
which is curdling
under the worn glaze
the eyes seem burnt out
or turned inward
toward China, in the porcelain of the cup
slowly emptying of coffee
and running full of rain
clear rain. the spring rain
atomizes against the eaves of the tavern
the facades on the other side of the street
resemble a huge
worn wall of porcelain
whose glow penetrates the wine leaves
the win leaves which are also worn
as if inside a cup. the Chinaman
sees the sun appear through a green leaf
whcih has fallen into the cup
the cup whose contents
are now complete clear.
The drizzle
falls into my coffee
until it gets cold
and runs over
until it runs over
and clears
so the picture at the bottom
comes into sight.
The picture of a man
with a long beard
in China
in front of a Chinese pavilion
in rain, heavy rain
that has congealed
in stripes
over the windblown facade
and over the face of the man.
Under the coffee, the sugar and the milk
which is curdling
under the worn glaze
the eyes seem burnt out
or turned inward
toward China, in the porcelain of the cup
slowly emptying of coffee
and running full of rain
clear rain. the spring rain
atomizes against the eaves of the tavern
the facades on the other side of the street
resemble a huge
worn wall of porcelain
whose glow penetrates the wine leaves
the win leaves which are also worn
as if inside a cup. the Chinaman
sees the sun appear through a green leaf
whcih has fallen into the cup
the cup whose contents
are now complete clear.
Henrik Nordbrandt
(translated by the author and Alexander Taylor)
(translated by the author and Alexander Taylor)
Death Observed Through the Sound of a Green Tea Kettle
The café is
bustling, green
menus cover
the searching eyes
of possible
prospects, she
realizes that
she will remain
at this booth,
in the corner
she sits, her hair
tasseled like a
child’s, clouds fall
in her eyes, gloom
has found its path,
like the posture
of un-watered
flowers, she sits,
with vibrating
limbs she waits for
the person in
white, swirling the
long forgotten
memories in
her now, cold cup
of tea. As she
waits for the chime
Brandy Adams
I don't think this is a proper improv, if there is such a thing but the poem itself produced the thoughts and therefore the writing. I also decided to turn it into a syllabic since it seemed so small.
At the beginning of the piece, you write "The cafe is / bustling," which is a little cliche. You might try skipping that and just diving right in:
ReplyDeleteIn the cafe,
menus cover
etc. Also, the phrase "possible prospects" is redundant. Prospects implies possibility. So we could turn this into "prospective (somethings)." I would recommend putting a period at the end of the first stanza to avoid an awkward sentence. There are several other places I would recommend this, like "tasseled like a / child's" and "as she / waits for the chime."
The last stanza is a little confusing to me. Who is the person in white? And why is she anticipating their arrival so much? And what is the chime? I want to know more!