Fish
with your slow memories in deep creeks,
what can I do here with these? I know nothing
of you, except a little foam and shadow
and that one day, like me, you will die.
what can I do here with these? I know nothing
of you, except a little foam and shadow
and that one day, like me, you will die.
So
why do you come to question my dreams
as if I could somehow be of use to you?
Go back to the sea, leave me on my dry earth.
We were not made to mix our days.
as if I could somehow be of use to you?
Go back to the sea, leave me on my dry earth.
We were not made to mix our days.
Tr. Ian Seed. Superveille
(1884-1960) spent his early childhood in Uruguay and his adult life divided
between Uruguay and France. His poor health made him death-obsessed, but he
treated the theme magically. The unattainable is here reduced to "a little foam and shadow"...
No comments:
Post a Comment