Like Something Shared Between Poets Poem by Denis Mair
Like Something Shared Between Poets
Once I looked up into a tree at a bird
That was embowered in shady branches
And saw it languidly stretch one wing
As a sunbeam shone among the leaves
Tracing a golden arc along its wing's edge
An ordinary moment, but special to me
I stood beside a woman in a wheelchair
It was her hobby to photograph birds
During lunchtime on the seminary grounds
She often wheeled herself to that grove
We were chatting then, and both saw
The golden line along that bird's wing
She raised her camera but missed it
We exchanged glances, as if to say,
'That would have made a fine picture
The lens did not catch it, but we saw it! '
I regretted distracting her from her hobby
Had I not come, she might have been ready
Yet she stayed at that spot to chat with me
Remembering our exchange of glances
I think of how poets appreciate each other
Como Algo Compartilhado Entre Poetas - Poem by Denis Mair
Um dia olhei para uma árvore, um pássaro
Lá estava abrigado entre os galhos escuros
E vi que estendia languidamente uma asa
Enquanto um raio de luz atravessava as folhas
Traçando uma linha dourada sobre a ela
Um momento comum, mas especial para mim
Estava ao lado de uma mulher na cadeira de
rodas
Seus hobby era fotografar os pássaros
Durante o almoço na área do seminário
Ela muitas vezes ia até aquele bosque
Convesávamos então, e nós dois vimos
A linha dourada sobre a asa do pássaro
Ela levantou sua máquina, mas não deu
Trocamos olhares, como para dizer,
'Aquela teria sido uma boa foto
As lentes não pegaram, mas nós o vimos! '
Sinto por tê-la distraída de seu hobby
Se eu não tivesse aparecido, ela estaria
pronta
Mas ela permaneceu ali para conversar comigo
Relembrando nossa troca de olhares
Penso como os poetas apreciam uns aos outros
translated by Francesca Cricelli
[This happened to me at Tienjen Seminary, near Sun-Moon Lake in Taiwan.]
Now I am reading this poem in the vol.XXI No.II of the journal Rock Pebbles(June 2017 issue) and so glad to feel the feelings of shared golden moments between poets.
It is a truly beautiful story, Denis. The succession of images is entrancing and the Lady in the wheelchair exchanging looks of recognition makes a perfect ending. Susan has given a wonderful report on it. She is a poet of great sensitivity and has traced the poem's qualities so beautifully. I have read the Portuguese version, using my knowledge of Spanish and understood the gist before coming to read your original version. Lovely idea. By the way I read your Chinese friend's two poems. Sorry I've been so late in reply. I'd mislaid them. I think he is a poet with a great future judging by the qualities he shows in explaining his culture. He should be encouraged to write more.
Oh, Denis! At the close of line 2, I leaned back in my chair and totally relaxed and smiled in anticipation! ! ! ! Using that word embowered snared me with its aptness its beauty its rightness- the word was born to be used in this poem in this line. And not satisfied with slaying me once already, you deliver again- - ]And saw it languidly stretch one wing. I see it! I see that bird languidly stretching out one wing! Writing amazes me when it does this. Transports the reader to another time and place and raises in him a feeling he was not feeling a moment ago. But are you satisfied with our bodies at your feet? No, you go for more- - - ] Just as a sunbeam shone through the leaves Making a golden gleam on its wing's edge. Yes, I see the shimmer of gold tracing along those feathers and how it seems to cry out golden moment. Are you done slaying your reader? Absolutely not. Now we meet the woman in the wheelchair with whom you shared that moment. But you made one mistake. You wrote this experience into our reality and now we have for all time shared that moment with you and this fine woman. And thus you wrote into reality that last line! Excellent writing, you set a high standard.
Comment: Glad to know that my second line snared and slayed. That is what we are hoping for in the poetry business, isn't it? I like the way you tame little birds like /snared/ to fly off their perches at your beck and call. I think there is no absolute distinction between critique and poetry. The former is an evocation of what a poem has achieved, and evocations can be inspired. If you get enough of the right birds to fly down and join in, then the critique is a poem. It demonstrates and does not just explain the effect of a poem. I especially like your use of the word slay. It injects whimsy into a bearlike word. It reminds me of something I ran into in Rumi: that the most earnest prayer is like laying your head on the chopping block. I feel there is whimsy in visualizing it this way. {The enterprise is infinite so all gestures must give way to further reaching, so any one gesture is ripe for the lopping.} Even if you put your full life-force into an act of writing beautifully or establishing a spiritual connection from within, in the cold light of fact you are still just a person sitting at a desk or kneeling on a prayer mat. And words only slay and snare on the stage-set of a reader's generous sensibility. Now I have confused myself by trying to elucidate things, as you sometimes do.
A wonderful poem - - - - The way the poet brings into focus the rare moments of life which can be enjoyed together through friendship, mutual appreciation.- - - - The golden gleam on the wing of the bird could not be captured in the camera of the friend but seeing that beautiful sight was possible because both were present there at that moment.Exchanging glances are our mutual appreciation of each other in poet's world.Poetry would not be possible if there are no readers.Thanks for sharing this great poem.
You are definitely on the same page as me in your reading of this poem. It is all about the moment and what brings us to it. Fleeting, iridescent beauty is not easy to capture, and words can't do the trick until the reader's imagination brings them alive. The idea of co-presence is a good way to understand creation and appreciation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 2:25:06 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This is a beautiful moment restore and saved within your poem. I love the imagery, the words you used to capture the scene, and the kinship expressed. Love it!