Sunday, February 22, 2004

Poem for Sunday


From 'Artless Lines'
By Max Jacob
Translated by William Kulik


Swift is the race hard the rocky place
and the flower of love died beneath our knees
while the lips cried silently in the depths of the heart.
An angel of the Lord came to me:
"Use your voice to sing to heaven!"
It was a wise spirit and beautiful too.
And since then! How often has God whispered:
"Silence is everywhere but in my eyes.
Become intoxicated with me. Look for me more and more.
Contemplate me: I promise nothing.
And think carefully: my image is in you.
Your secret happiness in the midst of sorrow.
Understand my law of suffering
transform your grief into holy ecstasy
through my eyes you must see your nature
through my heart you must weep with love."

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From Poet's Choice by Edward Hirsch in today's Washington Post: "Max Jacob (1876-1944) has always seemed an oddly irresistible and contradictory figure. I'm drawn to the genuine wit and zany artistry of this dyed-in-the-wool modernist who palled around with Picasso and Apollinaire and played a key role in the development of cubism and currealism. Born in Quimper, Brittany, Jacob once said that he joined the artistic community in Montparnasse 'to sin disgracefully.' He was a verbal cut-up and comedian, a serious occultist and student of Kabbalah, a dandy, a self-lacerating homosexual and a Jew who had a vision of Christ and subsequently converted to Catholicism. His clowning around tended to cover up his genuine mysticism and spiritual torment...Jacob was arrested by the Nazis in February 1944, and died of bronchial pneumonia in a concentration camp at Drancy, near Paris."



Since I didn't actually post any pictures of the river yesterday...this is from the bridge on the way to Olmsted Island, partway down the falls, a calm stream on the left that was probably churning two days ago and may be dry the next time we're there, and the great tumult on the right.

Certain people are evil influences and put pornographic thoughts into my mind first thing in the morning, and then try to blame me for being a pervert. Does this seem fair?

Must go round up Trek reviews.

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