A light says why. From all the poor prying. Again we attain a more
regal posture--small bird accompanying slips between our whim.
Where will we flicker, loose as two feathers from a wren's back? Gone,
do not brood for all the hands that miss you. They hardly hold. Don't
wait, one who thought a dark eye could save you, like night with its black
paws curled and gone to sleep. There are only two names to remember,
Loss and Pleasure, crossed in this field like no man's borrowed light. Call
the far-sighted foxes to the launching. Call the small deer scattered in
the back brush, swift as flit. Contingency has arms and hands and wasted
faces. And a body, shrunk and scurvy, built to burn.
Hi Karen, it is really an avant garde poem, that you recreated the relations betwwn light and dark in an expressionist, poetic context. You also used some conceptual signs, like loose and pleasure in the free association of images in your poem. Have a good time. Dr. Mohammed Sameer Literary Critic
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is a unique prose poem by Karen, and the speaker presented some of inner paradoxes of the subject, also, she reproduced the conceptual signs, like loose and pleasure in a new creative context. Dr. Mohammed Sameer Abd Elsalam Literary Critic