Here's another from yesterday--in this one you can more clearly see the difference in color between the good mother and her young, Today I didn't see any wildlife, not even the Lone Blue Jay who is the only partaker of the suet cakes I put out a week ago. It rained early, softening the ground for Marvin who came and pulled some more weeds. The fields and woods are stunningly, impossibly, early summer-green.
I was writing a haiku essay and wanted to find a haiku with the word "elderberry" in it. Usually, Google magic helps me with these quests. Instead I found the title of a short book of translations of a few of Marina Tsvetaeva's poems and short texts, which soon came like a flash from Amazon. The book is called Dark Elderberry Branch: poems of Marina Tsvetaeva; a reading by Ilya Kaminsky and Jean Valentine. There is a CD with it, which I haven't listened to yet. The small book is beautifully produced with stunning endpapers and a lovely folded paper cover. I like holding it in my hands. The title is from this poem by Anna Akhmatova,
There are four of us
On paths of air I seem to overhear
two friends, two voices, talking in their turn,
Did I say two? ... There by the eastern wall
where criss-cross shoots of brambles trail,
---Oh, look! That fresh dark elderberry branch
is like a letter from Marina in the mail.
(November, 1961) (In delirium)
from Poems of Akmatova, tr. Stanley Kunitz and Max Hayward, Little, Brown & Co. 1973
I think that dark elderberry branch is just gorgeous! I want to remember that forever!
Here is Marina's poem about her desk from page 26:
from The Desk (1)
Thirty years together---
clearer than love,,
I know your grain by heart,
you know my lines.
Wasn't it you who wrote them on my face?
You ate paper, you taught me:
There's no tomorrow. You taught me:
Money, bills, love letters, money, bills,
you stood in a blizzard of oak.
Kept saying: For every word you want
God, you kept saying,
doesn't accept bits and bills.
Nnh, when they lay my body out, my fool, my
desk, let it be on you.