“Dear Ancestors” a poem by Filip Marinovich

image

I lit a votive candle for you tonight in Sacre Coeur and cried
“I know my time in your church is not long”
It says on the sign
The cygne
The swan the lone swan says
Don’t be afraid to fish alone Filip
Crossing the channel between fresh water and salt water
A field of sun points
The swan in space outer space this is outer space too

READ THE REST.

“Construction of Objects” a poem by Circe Maia, translated by Jesse Lee Kercheval

Construction of Objects

They are made in time
and they are made of time.
They are made little by little, as small blows
of a chisel make a statue.
Like a blanket, knit stitch by stitch,
day by day.
But after that, they are. They are like a table
resting on the floor: this way of speaking, for example
these gestures
this circle of routine acts
such objects
such things
only death unmakes.

Construcción de Objetos

Se hacen en el tiempo
y están hechos de tiempo.
Se hacen de a poco, como a pequeños golpes
de cincel, una estatua.
Como un tejido, punto por punto
día por día.
Pero después están. Están como una mesa
apoyada en el piso: ese modo de hablar, por ejemplo
esos gestos
los círculos de actos rutinarios
tan objetos
tan cosas
que sólo se deshacen con la muerte.