Sonnet Fifteen
It’s nine o’clock and I’m washing
clothes again. By midnight
the sky will be bleached of sun
and stars will stain my dreams
with people I used to know.
By two AM I’ll deduce
a narrative is being born.
By three I’ll finally escape.
Instead of asparagus I’ll ask
for broccoli or maybe satin
sheets. I remember Abraham.
It tickles when you toggle me.
I wonder if there’s silence
under seas or does salt cleanse
the machinery of all peppermint.
~Nolo Lingua 2005
A PASSING MOMENT
-
This is my rather loose translation of a hokku by Ōemaru, who lived into
the first five years of the 19th century. For a moment,Autumn seen on the
hillsAt ...
6 days ago
1 comment:
Thanks. And not exactly. But tenure would be nice.
Post a Comment