The woman in white: a perennial translation
The woman time forgot
is very beautiful today
moulded in clay, frozen
and unrepentant.
is very beautiful today
moulded in clay, frozen
and unrepentant.
She will tear you apart
with a look, or, maybe, a knife
this lake by which
she lives is frozen now.
with a look, or, maybe, a knife
this lake by which
she lives is frozen now.
Dare we skate
on such thin ice?
Glaciers melt
and water haunts the air
when she’s not there.
on such thin ice?
Glaciers melt
and water haunts the air
when she’s not there.
Birds migrate, block the sun
a murder of crows
and, still, we have not fled
all that we once remembered.
a murder of crows
and, still, we have not fled
all that we once remembered.
Cities, technologies, many things
blight our usual lives
she remains beautiful, hopeless.
blight our usual lives
she remains beautiful, hopeless.
This is no time for plainchant
the sterility of winter predominates
but I am never bored
with what lies before my wandering eyes.
the sterility of winter predominates
but I am never bored
with what lies before my wandering eyes.
Even the purity of survival
is intermittent now, the earth shakes
another nuclear explosion
in the war zone — tipping the axis
further
is intermittent now, the earth shakes
another nuclear explosion
in the war zone — tipping the axis
further
into a space undelivered,
by this or any other planet.
Can we deny our eyes?
Horror infests the glowing, broken soil
of the central land masses:
Eurasia and the Americas
by this or any other planet.
Can we deny our eyes?
Horror infests the glowing, broken soil
of the central land masses:
Eurasia and the Americas
Africa is already gone,
as is Australasia. Knowing this is agony.
Ghosts have fled to the poles
nothing is deniable, but nonetheless, here
the white woman lives out her days
as is Australasia. Knowing this is agony.
Ghosts have fled to the poles
nothing is deniable, but nonetheless, here
the white woman lives out her days
The animals no longer follow
the usual path of the sun,
the sun is gone
in a cold dream of contempt:
we can no longer cover our tracks.
the usual path of the sun,
the sun is gone
in a cold dream of contempt:
we can no longer cover our tracks.
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