Legende.(Translation) . Poem by Michael Walker

Legende.(Translation) .

Aussi silenciex qu'on croit un miroir
Des realites plongent en silence tout pres...

Moi, je ne suis pas pret pour le repentir;
Ni pour echanger des regrets. Car le phalene
Ne plie plus que la flamme
Encore implorante. Et tremblant
Dans les flocons blancs et tombants
Les baisers sont, -
La seule valeur du tout a accorder.

Il est a apprendre-
Cet attachement et ce brulement,
Mais seulement par celui qui
Se depense au bout encore.

Deux fois et deux fois
(Encore le souvenir fumant,
Fantome saignant!) et encore une fois.
Jusqu'a ce que la logique brillane soit gagnee
Sans chuchoter comme on croit
Un miroir.

Puis, goutte a goutte caustique, un cri parfait
Montera de l'harmonie constante, -
De la viree sans cesse pour tous ceux qui
Avancent la legende de leur jeunesse en pleinmidi.

-' Legend'.Hart Crane(1899-1932) .

Legende.(Translation) .
Thursday, December 6, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: life,love
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Poem Hunter/ Hart Crane/ poems/ 11/ 38.
Hart Crane's poems are somewhat obscure, requiring a real effort from the reader. This is partly because Crane often prefers the logic of metaphor to the literal meaning. He begins that a mirror has to be believed, even though you wish it were otherwise. Realities flit by silently, contrasting with the images in a mirror. He affirms that he is not ready for repentance for sins or whatever, nor to exchange regrets with someone. His nature is sensual; kisses are the only thing worth giving. This is one example of Crane's technique of compression and omission of words, so that the reader has to supply the full meaning. Those two lines could read, 'Kisses are, - / The only thing at all worth granting'. The compressed version is better.
Lovemaking is a technique that has to be learned, but only the one who gives himself to the limit will succeed.
Twice and more, there hovers the smoking memory and a bleeding phantom until 'the bright logic is won'. 'Unwhispering as a mirror/ Is believed' echoes the first line and its silent mirror.
it is then that, ' drop by caustic drop', a cry will string some perfect harmony (like tuning a violin) . All this is 'Relentless caper for all those who step/ The legend of their youth into the noon'. Those two lines captivate me because of the focus on youth, a time of good looks, going out on a date, and becoming a kind of legend in your social circles. I can't get those words out of my mind some days.
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