August Sonnet Seven
Before the fireworks, the spark and crack,
the western sky, still lit with northern flare,
descends, that horizontal weakening,
into darkness, obscurity secured,
with some, a little a lot you give or take,
hesitation, the mist before the abyss.
The crowd amassed, dominus vobiscum,
along the river, et cum spiritu tuo,
urges, “always the procreant urge of the world,”
it on—it off, it on, it off, it on—
And so we desire, the respiration of self,
the night, that dark inexplicable delight,
when promised, expecting to be strictly astonished,
something so bright, oh dynamite satellite!
~Son Rivers 2005
A PASSING MOMENT
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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 ...
2 days ago
1 comment:
Shouldn't your sonnet follow some kind of rhyming pattern or iambic pentameter?
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