http://www.ablemuse.com/erato Eratosphere Forums - Metrical Poetry, Free Verse, Fiction, Art, Poetry Translation, Critique en Mon, 21 May 2012 09:52:16 GMT vBulletin 60 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/images/misc/rss.jpg http://www.ablemuse.com/erato http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17881&goto=newpost Mon, 21 May 2012 09:18:59 GMT Tapetum

I drive around a bend. My headlamp beam
picks out a pair of glowing eyes—a deer?
Most probably, and yet their steady gleam
discharges an adrenal shiver. Fear
of crashing into it is no concern—
the straight affords me lots of braking room,
but there is something fearsome in the burn
of twin-spear light trajecting through the gloom.

Then, slowing down, I see its eyeshine rise,
bright silver-green, above my all-terrain
vehicle, portending my demise,
reflecting my own headlamps through my brain.
The great bull Roosevelt elk directs its rack
downwards to charge. That’s when its eyes turn black. ]]> Metrical Poetry -- The Deep End John Beaton http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17881 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17880&goto=newpost Mon, 21 May 2012 07:58:12 GMT I will never forget the day I heard that news on the radio. Sebrinica had fallen. The UNs protection was only an empty promise.

http://www.time.com/time/world/artic...-europe-weekly

Nor did the man once dubbed the "Butcher of Bosnia" and the "Beast of the Balkans" show any remorse: catching the eye of a woman in the audience — a survivor of the massacre he is accused of ordering in Srebrenica — Mladic ran his hand across his throat. The throat-cutting gesture prompted presiding judge Alphons Orie to hold a brief recess and order an end to "inappropriate interactions." ]]> General Talk Janice D. Soderling http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17880 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17879&goto=newpost Mon, 21 May 2012 00:43:53 GMT After several all hands on deck calls Submission for Lists and Litanies is officially closed. We start posting 12 poems by twos on Friday. The... After several all hands on deck calls Submission for Lists and Litanies is officially closed. We start posting 12 poems by twos on Friday. The entries are juicy and full of surprises. Bonne chance to all!

Lance ]]> Metrical Poetry Lance Levens http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17879 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17878&goto=newpost Mon, 21 May 2012 00:01:43 GMT American Arts Quarterly and the Newington-Cropsey Cultural Studies Center have published part two of The Carcass of Beef from my poem Soutine on line.

Meredith Bergmann, poetry editor of AAQ, recently introduced the book at my launch reading at Switft Hibernian Lounge in New York. She, in turn, was introduced by our own Quincy R. Lehr.

Thanks AAQ and thanks Meredith. ]]> The Accomplished Members Rick Mullin http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17878 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17877&goto=newpost Sun, 20 May 2012 22:50:47 GMT *The Gay Divorcee Contemplates November* And all the little field mice now are fled, grown fat and sweet on pumpkin seed and corn, close-curled...
The Gay Divorcee Contemplates November

And all the little field mice now are fled,
grown fat and sweet on pumpkin seed and corn,
close-curled in burrowed beds scratched underground
while I in mine curl bitter and alone.

***

I couldn't come up with a good title last night, but now I think I have one.
old title: An Analyzed Rhyme for November ]]> Metrical Poetry Janice D. Soderling http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17877 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17876&goto=newpost Sun, 20 May 2012 20:11:15 GMT I wonder if I am posting these little gems from the ancient Chinese too frequently. If anyone thinks so, I'll move to bi-weekly. This week's translation is of a poem by Xin QiJi the author of the Lantern Festival poem we worked on a few weeks ago. QiJi was a retired Song army generl, a hero in fact. He made light of his military and literary careers, saying in a poem he called "Review of My Life" that he had laaughed at everything in the world---and that he had worked foolishly all his life without success, which was hardly what successive generations of Chinese thought of him and what the Chinese think of him today. The following is a, light-hearted Ci-lyric he wrote in his later years.

Sharing My Enthusiasm
(to the tune of West River Moon)
by Xin QiJi (Song Dynasty)

Too fond of hearty laughing and drinking wine,
when would I get the time to mourn the dead?
I recently read an ancient's book, but not a shred
of what he wrote was worthy to be read.

Drunk last night, I fell beside a pine.
“How drunk am I?” I asked the swaying tree,
but doubting how much help the pine would be,
“Go! Go!” I said and pushed it away from me.
---------------------------------------------------------
Original in modern Chinese:

遣興【西江月‧】
辛弃疾

醉裡且貪歡笑，
要愁那得功夫？
近來始覺古人書，
信著全無是處。

昨夜松邊醉倒，
問松﹕我醉何如？
只疑松動要來扶，
以手推松曰﹕去！
去！
---------------------------------------------
Original in pinyin (Note rhyme scheme abbb):

Qian Xing
[Xi jiang yue ‧]
--- Xin Qiji

Zuì li qiě tān huān xiào,
Yào chóu nà de gōngfu?
Jìnlái shǐ jué gǔrén shū,
Xìn zhe quán wú shì chù.

Zuóyè sōng biān zuì dào,
Wèn sōng﹕wǒ zuì hérú?
Zhǐ yí sōng dòng yào lái fú,
Yǐ shǒu tuī sōng yuē﹕ qù! Qù!
--------------------------------------------
Word-for-Word:

Sending (sharing) Enthusiasm
[West River Moon]
---Xin Qiji

Drunk inside and greedy hearty laughing,
required mourning when get time?
Recently became aware ancient's book,
believe writing entirely without right point.

Last night pine beside drunk fell,
asked pine: I drunk how am?
But doubt pine able would come help,
used hand push pine said: Go! Go!



G. ]]> Translation Golias http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17876 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17875&goto=newpost Sun, 20 May 2012 17:49:26 GMT *There Was an Aged King* There was an aged king, his heart was sad, his head was gray; the old king took to wed a fair young bride one day. ... There Was an Aged King

There was an aged king,
his heart was sad, his head was gray;
the old king took to wed
a fair young bride one day.

There was a handsome page,
gold was his hair, light was his life;
he bore the silken train
of the king's young wife.

You've heard the ancient air;
it sounds so sweet, so full of woe.
They both had to die,
they loved each other so.


Es War Ein Alter König

Heinrich Heine

Es war ein alter König,
sein Herz war schwer, sein Haupt war grau;
der arme alte König,
er nahm eine junge Frau.

Es war ein schöner Page,
blond war sein Haupt, leicht war sein Sinn;
er trug die seid'ne Schleppe
der jungen Königin.

Kennst du das alte Liedchen?
Es klingt so süß, es klingt so trüb!
Sie mußten beide sterben,
sie hatten sich viel zu lieb.


literal:

There was an old king.
His heart was heavy, his head was gray;
the poor old king
took a young wife.

There was a handsome page,
Blond was his hair, light was his mind,
He bore the silken train
of the young queen.

Do you know the old song?
It sounds so sweet, it sounds so sad.
They both had to die,
they loved each other too much. ]]> Translation Marion Shore http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17875 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17874&goto=newpost Sun, 20 May 2012 17:23:51 GMT Because, a bit over 2 years ago, I posted this sonnet in this forum and received some excellent feedback, but have not done any additional editing of... Because, a bit over 2 years ago, I posted this sonnet in this forum and received some excellent feedback, but have not done any additional editing of the poem until now, I am going to repost the final version from the last posting, then post the new version. I don't believe that this violates any of the Sphere's etiquette, but if it does, please inform me, and I will remove the older version immediately.

The Case Manager (2012)

Within his cubicle, he answers calls
From mothers terrified of their own sons,
From quiet students contemplating guns,
From men who’ve seen blood trickling down their walls.
He offers solace in his gentle tone,
In normalizing what the strangers say.
So usually they promise, for today
That they won’t hurt themselves, or stay alone.

But he’s alone. And lately his replies--
Milktoast, half-hearted--mock him in his bed.
“Don’t worry, ma’am. The meds will calm your brain.”
And now his voice is booming through his head:
“Cut deep, slice vertically, to end all pain.”
Jerking awake, he freezes, stiff with lies.


The Case Manager (2010)

The Case Manager
Within his cubicle, he answers calls
From mothers terrified of their own sons,
From quiet students contemplating guns,
From men who see blood trickling down their walls.
He offers solace in his gentle tone,
In normalizing what the strangers say.
So usually they promise, for today
That they won’t hurt themselves, or stay alone.

But he’s alone. And lately his replies
To desperate callers mock him in his bed.
“I understand. You’re in a lot of pain.”
His voice, distorted, slithers through his head.
He dozes, dreams he’s hearing an insane
Caller: himself. He freezes, lost in lies. ]]> Metrical Poetry -- The Deep End Jeff Holt http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17874 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17873&goto=newpost Sun, 20 May 2012 15:33:18 GMT Photos of events one cannot remember, places and people one no longer knows, objects without significance. Then was another life, lived by... Photos of events one cannot remember,

places and people one no longer knows,

objects without significance.

Then was another life, lived by another,

in a different place, at a different time.

Now, bewildered by events of the shrinking day,

despite the desperate clasp, a changing world

escapes the failing arms.

Little by little,
the mind's hands slip,
lose grip
let go. ]]> Non-Metrical Poetry doina percival http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17873 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17872&goto=newpost Sun, 20 May 2012 14:18:05 GMT .. . . *8 Oars Of Sleep* One of cedar sanded smooth, pierced with iron, notched, and grooved. ..
.
.
8 Oars Of Sleep


One of cedar
sanded smooth,
pierced with iron,
notched, and grooved.

One in sunlight
dipped and waved.
One of willow
wept—in shade.

One curved and tender
draught of spice.
One adamantine
arctic slice.

One a stick
to catch a stream—
the crooked pole
of lazy dream.

One the raft
of rescue’s wing.
One the splash
of drowning things.

Of all life’s measures
I shall keep
only these
8 oars of sleep.
..
..
. ]]> Metrical Poetry R. Nemo Hill http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17872 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17871&goto=newpost Sun, 20 May 2012 11:43:01 GMT Sad news indeed. I hope all our members based in Italy are safe and sound, Andrew, Greg, Philip, Nigel. I hope I have not neglected to mention anyone. Sad news indeed. I hope all our members based in Italy are safe and sound, Andrew, Greg, Philip, Nigel. I hope I have not neglected to mention anyone. ]]> General Talk Janice D. Soderling http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17871 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17868&goto=newpost Sun, 20 May 2012 07:34:03 GMT Otakar Svec His motorcycle flew into the future if he had only seen where it was headed, he might have planted ginkgo trees instead. No... Otakar Svec

His motorcycle flew into the future
if he had only seen where it was headed,
he might have planted ginkgo trees instead.
No flickering images of cockroaches,
no orders to design the Caucasus,
no futile hope that the granite might not
be found to build it, that he would not be bound
to feed the vultures until he followed
his wife into kitchen, the hissing gas.

ginko -> ginkgo; thanks Annie for spotting the typo! ]]> Non-Metrical Poetry Martin Rocek http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17868 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17866&goto=newpost Sat, 19 May 2012 21:49:13 GMT City of Refuge (Possible Second Draft) When the Stars send a shudder through your blood And set all of your creeds, like leaves, astir, When... City of Refuge (Possible Second Draft)


When the Stars send a shudder through your blood
And set all of your creeds, like leaves, astir,
When Night assays the clay from which you're made
And searches your foundations to their core;
Or when you hear the dark enthralling roar
Grumble inside the Ocean's elegies,
The Wind go to-and-fro outside your door,
Faint in the rushes - hoarser in the trees:
Follow the wise then - raise your castle there
Strong refuge from that pitiless regime -
Lord of your nothingness, sole carpenter
Of your own heaven. Or else, follow him
Who builds a temple that stands out beyond
the world's enigma - with no human hand.


City of Refuge (First Draft)

When the stars send a shiver through your veins
And set all of your creeds like leaves astir,
When night assays the clay that formed your loins
And searches your foundations to their core;

Or when you hear the dark enchanted keen
Muttering in the ocean's elegies,
The wind that passes by the house you're in,
Faint in the rushes - hoarser in the trees:

Follow the wise then - raise your castle there
Strong refuge from that fearful seigneury -
Lord of your nothingness, sole carpenter
Of your own heaven. Or else, follow he

Who builds a temple that stands out beyond
The world's enigma - not with human hand.

[R Williams Parry]



Dinas Noddfa

Pan yrr y Sêr eu cryndod drwy dy waed
Gan siglo dy gredöau megis dail
Pan profo'r Nos y pridd o'r hwn y'th wnaed
A'i hofn yn chwilio'th sylwedd hyd i'th sail;
Neu pan wrandewi rigwm trist y Môr
Syn dweud yn dywyll ei lesmeiriol gŵyn
A'r Gwynt sy'n mynd a dyfod heibio'th ddôr
Yn gryg drwy coedydd ac yn floesg drwy'r brwyn:
Dilyn y doeth, a chyfod iti gaer
Lle ceffi noddfa rhag eu gormes gref
Yn arglwydd di ddiddymdra, ac yn saer
Dy nef dy hun. Neu ynteu dilyn ef
Pan adeilado deml, nid o waith llaw
Goruwch dirgelwch Natur a thu draw.


Literal

Shelter City

When the stars drive their shudder through your blood
rocking your creeds as if (they were) leaves
When the night assays the loam from which you were fashioned
And its fear looks into your basis as deep as your foundation
Or when you hear the sea's sad (nursery rime / advertising jingle)
Which says darkly its (evanescent / bewitching) complaint
And the wind which comes and goes in front of your door
Hoarse in the forest and whispering through the reeds:
Follow the wise, and raise up to yourself a fortification
Where you can achieve consolation from their powerful dictatorship
As lord of your own nonentity, and carpenter
Of your own heaven. Or else, follow he
Who builds a temple, not of handiwork,
Above the mystery of nature, and beyond that.

......

The Welsh text has several letters which really ought to have diacritics;- but they all disappeared when I posted here.

If somebody really needs a clean text of the Welsh, please PM me, and I shall do my best.

I may eventually try to sort out the diacritics even on here, but I suspect anyone with Welsh good enough to read Williams Parry will probably know where they are missing in any case. ]]> Translation Christopher ONeill http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17866 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17869&goto=newpost Sat, 19 May 2012 20:51:14 GMT I place this in GT because it isn't good enough for Met or TDE and the subject is potentially too important for either board alone. Glad to discuss, explain, whatever.

Important Truth in Common Doggerel

I lifted a forty-gallon bag
of grass and rocks and dirt.
Three spinal discs went pop, pop, pop;
My God, how bad it hurt!
A two-week wait to see the doc
who treats bad spines and necks,
my stomach in rebellion
from too much Celebrex.
I called my hypothalamus
and ordered it most strictly
to let loose beta-endorphin
and stop my torture quickly.
It said, “Then clear the static out
so I can do it right.”
I shut each lobe of cortex down,
and like a switched-off light
my pain was gone. I was amazed,
and yet somehow I'd known
that I could do it if I would
by power of mind alone.
Since then I've blocked a hundred pains,
cramps, headaches, even itches.
My doc says he can do the same,
the irony of which is
he doesn' t teach his patients how.
He says they won't believe it.
They only want perscriptions now.
Mind-power? They can't conceive it.
I, too, have tried to teach a few
close friends, my wife included,
with no success so far. I think
they think I am deluded.
So I give up and go my way
pain-free until I stow it;
and so could you my suffering friends
If only you would know it.

Wiley Clements ]]> Metrical Poetry Golias http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17869 http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17863&goto=newpost Sat, 19 May 2012 18:05:47 GMT Huge congrats to Tammy Ho Lai-Ming and Jeff Zroback! AsianCha was named best journal in the world by the StorySouth Million Writers Award committee.... Huge congrats to Tammy Ho Lai-Ming and Jeff Zroback! AsianCha was named best journal in the world by the StorySouth Million Writers Award committee. A signal honor, and well deserved. Hurrah!

From the jury's citation: "The winner of this year's Million Writers Award for best publication is Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, which placed five stories on this year's notable list. Back in 2008 Cha was named our best new online magazine, so it's great to see them continuing to publish such great fiction."

Tammy is one of the most supportive editors around. She does so much for her authors, so it's nice to see her receive this recognition.

The award is for fiction, but I know several of the poets here have been published in Cha, so congrats all around!

Best,

Bill ]]> General Talk W.F. Lantry http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showthread.php?t=17863