Saturday, April 05, 2008

My son on the day of his first haircut, 1958

which I gave him out in our yard. It made him look much older, but I missed the blond curls at the nape of his neck. Today I entered quite a few poetry books into my records at I found a lot of lovely inscriptions from poets that I had forgotten I had. And I found a book by a Spanish poet named Gloria Fuentes.
And I opened the book to this:

Hoy Es Domingo

Hoy es domingo.
La tarde quietecita está a mi lado.

Yo, cono siempre, en mi casa,
con tres seres sin carne,
un recuerdo,
una carta
y un retrato de mi madre.

(and in English translation by Philip Levine:)

Today is Sunday

Today is Sunday
The quiet little afternoon lies beside me.

As always, I am at home,
with three things that have no bodies,
a memory,
a letter,
a photo of my mother.

I thought this was a perfect poem for a blog about memory.
Good night,

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful, the man inside the boy. And the thoughtful, eloquently written bi-lingual poem. I spoke to me. Thanks for sharing.