Feather
by Lew R. Sarett
High in the noon's bright bowl of blue
I saw an idling eagle tilt
His suave white wings. As smooth he flew
As water flows on silt.
He wheeled; a feather from his wing
Fluttered from out the clean clear dome
And sank on the grassy carpeting,
Soft as a moth on foam.
And speaking of light and beautiful things like feathers, here's a song I found this week by Pat Kalla & Le Super Mojo. The lyrics, in French, are in the comments on the video. My favorite ones:
"Pleurer, c’est une rivière au fond des yeux qui déborde quand il pleut
Pleurer, c’est dessiner la mélancolie avec un pinceau tout gris
Pleurer, c’est déranger les anges qui dorment sous tes paupières
Qui secouent leurs ailes toutes mouillées
Et vont au soleil se sécher..."
My translation:
"Crying is a river deep in the eyes that overflows when it rains
Crying is drawing melancholy with a gray paintbrush
Crying is bothering the angels that are sleeping under your eyelids
That shake their wet wings
And go into the sun to dry themselves..."
11 comments:
Your translation is gorgeous, Ruth. More please! xo
The feather poem -- what a soft, suggestive, whispery, kind of eerie atmosphere!
That feather poem is such a gentle whisper--just lovely
"And no one caught the word" is rather haunting itself. I loved the similes in his poem, Ruth. Thanks for the song, a loving one that seems like a father to a child.
That poem feels so hyper-real somehow, and those lyrics! The angels under my eyelids are weeping a bit...Thank you, Ruth!
feather and tears - they seem to go together, both begging to be handled with care. Thank you, Tabitha.
Love this! Brought back those French lessons. Thanks!!!
So lovely and poignant, both - Merci, Ruth!
It must be nice to be keeping your eyes and ears open for feathers as well as birds...and nothing I love more than a post that comes with a song. I really miss French. Lovely translation!
I love that image of a feather fluttering out of the clean clear dome.
Oh yes, super image I like;)
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