October 2011
29 posts
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Myrtle is about your head,
you have bent and caught the spray:
each leaf is...
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Hilda Doolittle.
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But here
a wild-hyacinth stalk is snapped:
the purple buds—half ripe—
show...
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Hilda Doolittle.
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sea garden →
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We wandered from pine-hills
through oak and scrub-oak tangles,
we broke hyssop...
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Hilda Doolittle, from ‘The Helmsman’.
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The priests lead the peasants out onto an elevated plain. They plant them in...
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Zbigniew Herbert, trans. Alissa Valles.
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To love this flesh,
its rivers and valleys,
its fruits,
ripe or...
–
Leo Yankevich.
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A sleep of beasts in the reeds
after the embrace – then
we shall stand against...
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Johannes Bobrowski, trans. Ruth and Matthew Mead.
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the sun sleeps in the mountains →
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Once I wounded him with so
small a thorn
I never thought his flesh would...
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Sylvia Plath.
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You are the wine that makes me drunk,
now I bleed in sweet dances,
and must...
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Georg Trakl, trans. Jim Doss.
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In the midst of all your memories there is one
Faded away beyond recovering;...
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Jorge Luis Borges, trans. R. G. Barnes and R. Mezey.
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Yet as I climbed down the rocky path, madness seized me and I cried loudly in...
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Georg Trakl, ‘Revelation and Decline’.
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My body – all the bodies we are born with,
decay in the dark and the light.
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Yongming Zhai, trans. Pascale Petit.
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As I walked in the darkening garden, the hyacinth stillness of the night...
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Georg Trakl, ‘Revelation and Decline’.
September 2011
49 posts
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We bear within us the seeds of all the gods,
the gene of death and the gene of...
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Gottfried Benn, trans. Michael Hofmann.
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At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither...
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T.S. Eliot.