Embiricos Andreas poetry
AUGMENTATION
It sometimes happens that one kisses
The hand of a morning reflection
In the silence of a landscape
Standing motionless with sealed mouth
Before the city awakens with a thousand fountains
And with the unfettered bathing voices
Suddenly released in the sudden sun
By the street-cleaners of the morning.
And so our pains have not gone for nothing
They lift their veils and reveal
Their mighty arms swelling
To reach into the heart of the city
Like the Magi of the East, and to raise
The fingers of the sleepers one by one
Toward the row of boats that sail the streets
Laden with perfumes
With treasures and provisions
From the remote lands, like the glance
Of a woman daydreaming.
The hand of a morning reflection
In the silence of a landscape
Standing motionless with sealed mouth
Before the city awakens with a thousand fountains
And with the unfettered bathing voices
Suddenly released in the sudden sun
By the street-cleaners of the morning.
And so our pains have not gone for nothing
They lift their veils and reveal
Their mighty arms swelling
To reach into the heart of the city
Like the Magi of the East, and to raise
The fingers of the sleepers one by one
Toward the row of boats that sail the streets
Laden with perfumes
With treasures and provisions
From the remote lands, like the glance
Of a woman daydreaming.
Embiricos Andreas poetry
INSIGHT OF MORNING HOURS
INSIGHT OF MORNING HOURS
For Yves Tanguy
Natural inclination
The dove of our heartbeat spreads it around
The tears of rivers flow always
They are tears of unconcealable happiness
They are lakes where snow-white storks lived long ago
No south-westerly settles in the sugar-canes
And even if at a gunshot the clouds lift
And rise into thinner layers
Where the corvettes spread the sails
Down on the earth a shadow searches for its lost body
The weather in the valley which stole it from her
Thickens the mists that hide it
The lake’s treasures are restless, their fur rises
Seaweed and elemental matter stir in the depths
A jellyfish weeps for yesterday’s transparency
Which will return with the first fishing-light
Before winter sets in
Before anyone thinks of lighting the beacon
Under which a blonde woman considers her future
The lighthouse-keeper bends to her lips and kisses them
As mariners kiss their symplegades.
Natural inclination
The dove of our heartbeat spreads it around
The tears of rivers flow always
They are tears of unconcealable happiness
They are lakes where snow-white storks lived long ago
No south-westerly settles in the sugar-canes
And even if at a gunshot the clouds lift
And rise into thinner layers
Where the corvettes spread the sails
Down on the earth a shadow searches for its lost body
The weather in the valley which stole it from her
Thickens the mists that hide it
The lake’s treasures are restless, their fur rises
Seaweed and elemental matter stir in the depths
A jellyfish weeps for yesterday’s transparency
Which will return with the first fishing-light
Before winter sets in
Before anyone thinks of lighting the beacon
Under which a blonde woman considers her future
The lighthouse-keeper bends to her lips and kisses them
As mariners kiss their symplegades.
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