De Amerikaanse dichter en schrijver Robert Bly werd geboren op 23 december 1926 in Madison, Minnesota. Zie ook alle tags voor Robert Bly op dit blog.
THE BEAR AND THE MAN
Suppose there were a bear and a man. The bear
Knows his kin—old pebbles, fifty-five-
Gallon barrels, big pine trees in the moonlight,
Abandoned down jackets; and the man approaches warily —
He’s read Tolstoy, knows a few symphonies.
That’s about it. Each has lost a son. The bear’s
Killed by a trap, the man’s killed by a bear.
That boy was partly drunk, alone in the woods.
The bear puts out black claws firmly on earth.
He’s not dumb. Skinned, he’s like a man.
People Say that both bears and men receive a signal
Coming from far up there, near the North Pole.
The old grandmother of both bear and man
Sits netted among the stars, looking down.
BOARDS ON THE GROUND
1.
I love to see boards lying on the ground in early spring;
The ground beneath them is wet, and muddy—
Perhaps covered with chicken tracks—
And they are dry and eternal.
2.
This is the wood one sees on the decks of ocean ships,
Wood that carries us far from land,
With a dryness of someaUng used for simple tasks,
Like a horse’s tail.
3.
This wood is like a man who has a simple life,
Living through the spring and winter on the ship of his own desire.
He sits on dry wood surrounded by half-melted snow
As the rooster walks away springily over the dampened hay.
The Bridegroom
The bridegroom wanted to reach the Norwegian Church.
But the roads were made impassable by huge snows.
We are each the bridegroom longing for existence.
Marriage brings the moth close to the candle flame.
With their frail wings, men and women
Are constantly flying into the fire of existence.
Some say that each drop of ground water in Kansas
Knows about the ocean. How can this be?
Every drop of water longs like us for existence.
Abu Said fasted in the desert for twenty years.
Later when he came back, his dragon friend
Wept. “Your suffering gave me a hint of existence.”
When the pianist’s fingers strike all the notes
In the Tenth Prelude, it’s clear Bach’s soul has been
Leaping about like a hare in the field of existence.
Robert, you’re close to joy but not quite there.
You are a hunchback standing in an Italian
Square, looking in at the festival of existence.
Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 23e december ook mijn blog van 23 december 2018 deel 1 en ook deel 2 en eveneens deel 3.