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The dread of dead birds
In the ambient of a stake-out
Is the song of blood
Exists
A slightly higher pitched thought
Like the distances
Lave themselves with silence
Sail away eyes down Attila's ill-whirlpools
Dig out the birds
Which are self-sufficient
Convinced
That the most beautiful voices
Reach
From dead lines in the ground
We need them
At the beginning and the end of love
We always summon them then
My head is spinning. This poem eludes my mind when I try to tie it down to an articulated statement. It resists paraphrase. But I do believe the meaning jumped into my consciousness where images are happy to exist as images I kept thinking of the ancient custom of reading the will of the gods and/or the course of future events in the entrails of birds. Is that relevant? What the entrails reveal or the message the birds carry could be summarized unb Matthew Arnold's lines: We are CAUGHT BETWEEN TWO WORLDS, ONE DEAD, THE OTHER DYING TO BE BORN.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your note of explanation helps me get attuned to the birds. Attila was a conqueror. Love in its phase of growth is also a conqueror that believes it can overcome death. Love seems drawn to deathly things and unpassable gulfs, to prove its power of overcoming.// I think I get the feel of your second line In the ambient of a stake-out, but it is a bit confusing. Does it means something like the ambit staked out widely? / Unfortunately, the phrase stake-out in English makes me think of an ambush laid by policemen to catch a criminal. When blood sings it casts its life-force widely, and hence it moves in the ambit of those birds who once soared so bravely. Your poems are like condensed code that make the reader think about history and passion. Fluidity allows concentration. I can follow the fluidity with effort. It leaves me with nostalgia for a natural fluid state.