Suzanne Jill Levine | |||||||||
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Some Translations | |||||||||
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Poem Among Friends By Octavio Paz |
II. | TWO from Erotismos |
HighQ | ||||||
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Friendship is a river and a circle The river flows through the circle The circle is an island in the river The river says: before there was no river, After, there is only the river. Before and after is what erases friendship. Does it vanish? The river flows and the circle is formed: We live between oblivion and our memories: this moment is an island beaten by a time that never ceases. Friendship erases time and thus sets us free. It is a river that shapes its circles as it flows. In the river our footsteps vanish in the sand. In the sand we seek the river: where have you gone? Octavio Paz writes: This poem was written in Delhi, the night of November 16th, 1985, during a reunion of old friends. Following Urdu and Hindu traditions, it consists of a six-verse stanza concluded by two final verses. Paz wrote the first and sixth lines in Spanish, Agyeya (Sachchidananda Vatsayan) the second and third in Hindi, and the fourth and fifth were written, also in Hindi, by Shrikant Verma. The poem has three endings: the last two lines—the coda—were written three times by the three poets. Paz dedicates his version to the memory of Shrikant Verma, a generous friend who died while still young. |
Yes, mirrored in his solitude. If only he could exchange his whole sea for a verse, for a single verse he wrote when he resided on earth...! If you traverse Isla Negra without sinking into the weight of your words you will see that there are no islands nor the color black in the wild wind; in Isla Negra all is as imaginary as the sirens his ghost can no longer hear. And you will discover why the translator is in love with the sea and how her long laugh is the beacon of the lighthouse on earth where many languages can finally be walking around. |
First summer on Fire Island in Seaview where the long island was wide and its vast secret gardens hid mansions peopled by the shadowy rich. Fire Island where I grew from that leggy ten year old into a slim honey-eyed adolescent |
Entering you, head against head, hair by hair, mouth against mouth I inhale the air you breathe— Memory a stillness in the dying afternoon light—endless ray piercing burning bones, touching your body’s edge: day’s light catching the shape witness a wide void where whiteness erases marks in the sand, your face as sounds devour the day burning slowly your thick texture turning to ashes in the hungry night of the senses. |
You, all loving love only one in the mirror. The other put out her cigarette while you impatiently looking out fanned the smoke at the day’s sky. One Week an eternity it seems since I’ve seen you blow-dry your hair |
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DIALOGUE | |||||||||
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