The hotel door smiles terribly
What has this done to me mother
Being the clerk for whom alone nothing exists
Pi-mus fish moving coupled through deep sad water
Fresh angels disembarked at Marseilles yesterday morning
I hear a distant song dying and dying again
Humble as I am who am worth nothing
Child I've given you what I had labor
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Salomé
If John the Baptist might smile once again
Sire I would dance better than seraphim
Tell me mother what makes you grieve
Attired as a countess at the Dauphin’s side
My heart throbbed it throbbed at his words
As I danced through the fennel listening
And embroidered lilies across a pennant
To flutter at last from the tip of his staff
Tell me for whom I’ll embroider them now
His staff blooms anew on the banks of Jordan
King Herod when your soldiers led him away
All the lilies shriveled in my garden
Come with me everyone under the quincunx
Don’t cry delightful jester
Take this head as your cap and bells and dance
Don’t touch his brow mother it has grown cold
Sire lead the procession let the guard follow
We’ll dig a hole and bury it
We’ll plant flowers and dance in a ring
Till the hour I lose my garter
The king his snuffbox
The princess her rosary
The priest his breviary
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
Sire I would dance better than seraphim
Tell me mother what makes you grieve
Attired as a countess at the Dauphin’s side
My heart throbbed it throbbed at his words
As I danced through the fennel listening
And embroidered lilies across a pennant
To flutter at last from the tip of his staff
Tell me for whom I’ll embroider them now
His staff blooms anew on the banks of Jordan
King Herod when your soldiers led him away
All the lilies shriveled in my garden
Come with me everyone under the quincunx
Don’t cry delightful jester
Take this head as your cap and bells and dance
Don’t touch his brow mother it has grown cold
Sire lead the procession let the guard follow
We’ll dig a hole and bury it
We’ll plant flowers and dance in a ring
Till the hour I lose my garter
The king his snuffbox
The princess her rosary
The priest his breviary
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Farewell
I plucked this sprig of heather
Autumn’s dead remember this
We’ll see each other no more on earth
Scent of time sprig of heather
And remember I await you
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
Autumn’s dead remember this
We’ll see each other no more on earth
Scent of time sprig of heather
And remember I await you
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Poem Read At André Salmon’s Wedding
July 13 1909
Seeing the flags this morning I didn’t tell myself
Behold the rich garments of the poor
Or democratic modesty wants to veil its sorrow
Or honoring liberty now makes us imitate
Leaves o vegetable liberty o sole earthly liberty
Or the houses are ablaze because we’ll leave never to return
Or these restless hands will labor tomorrow for us all
Or even they’ve hanged those who couldn’t make the most of life
Or even they’ve renewed the world by recapturing the Bastille
I know it’s only renewed by those grounded in poetry
Paris is decked out because my friend André Salmon’s getting
married there
We used to meet up in a damned dive
When we were young
Both of us smoking and shabbily dressed waiting for sunrise
Smitten smitten with the same words whose meanings will have
to be changed
Deceived deceived poor kids and we still didn’t know how to laugh
The table and two glasses became a dying man who cast us
Orpheus’ last glance
The glasses fell shattered
And we learned how to laugh
We parted then pilgrims of perdition
Across streets across countries across reason
I saw him again on the bank of the river where Ophelia was floating
Who still floats white amongst the water lilies
He went off amongst wan Hamlets
Playing the airs of madness on his flute
I saw him near a dying muzhik counting his blessings
While admiring the snow that looked like naked women
I saw him doing this or that in honor of the same words
That change children’s expressions and I’m saying these things
Recollection and Expectation because my friend André Salmon is
getting married
Let’s rejoice not because our friendship has been the river that
made us fertile
River lands whose abundance is the nourishment all hope for
Or because our glasses cast once more Orpheus’ dying glance
Or because we’ve grown so large that many people confuse our
eyes with stars
Or because flags flap at the windows of citizens who’ve been
content these hundred years to have life and trifles to defend
Or because grounded in poetry we have the right to words that
form and unmake the
Universe
Or because we can weep without being absurd and because we
know how to laugh
Or because we’re smoking and drinking as in the old days
Let’s rejoice because the director of fire and poets
Love filling like light
All the solid space between stars and planets
Love wishes that my friend André Salmon get married today
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
Seeing the flags this morning I didn’t tell myself
Behold the rich garments of the poor
Or democratic modesty wants to veil its sorrow
Or honoring liberty now makes us imitate
Leaves o vegetable liberty o sole earthly liberty
Or the houses are ablaze because we’ll leave never to return
Or these restless hands will labor tomorrow for us all
Or even they’ve hanged those who couldn’t make the most of life
Or even they’ve renewed the world by recapturing the Bastille
I know it’s only renewed by those grounded in poetry
Paris is decked out because my friend André Salmon’s getting
married there
We used to meet up in a damned dive
When we were young
Both of us smoking and shabbily dressed waiting for sunrise
Smitten smitten with the same words whose meanings will have
to be changed
Deceived deceived poor kids and we still didn’t know how to laugh
The table and two glasses became a dying man who cast us
Orpheus’ last glance
The glasses fell shattered
And we learned how to laugh
We parted then pilgrims of perdition
Across streets across countries across reason
I saw him again on the bank of the river where Ophelia was floating
Who still floats white amongst the water lilies
He went off amongst wan Hamlets
Playing the airs of madness on his flute
I saw him near a dying muzhik counting his blessings
While admiring the snow that looked like naked women
I saw him doing this or that in honor of the same words
That change children’s expressions and I’m saying these things
Recollection and Expectation because my friend André Salmon is
getting married
Let’s rejoice not because our friendship has been the river that
made us fertile
River lands whose abundance is the nourishment all hope for
Or because our glasses cast once more Orpheus’ dying glance
Or because we’ve grown so large that many people confuse our
eyes with stars
Or because flags flap at the windows of citizens who’ve been
content these hundred years to have life and trifles to defend
Or because grounded in poetry we have the right to words that
form and unmake the
Universe
Or because we can weep without being absurd and because we
know how to laugh
Or because we’re smoking and drinking as in the old days
Let’s rejoice because the director of fire and poets
Love filling like light
All the solid space between stars and planets
Love wishes that my friend André Salmon get married today
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
White Snow
Angels the angels in the skies
One’s dressed up like an officer
One’s dressed up like a chef
And the others are singing
Comely officer color of the skies
Long long after Christmas gentle spring
Will decorate you with a shining sun
With a shining sun
The chef plucks the geese
Ah! let the snow fall
And fall if only I held
My beloved in my arms
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
One’s dressed up like an officer
One’s dressed up like a chef
And the others are singing
Comely officer color of the skies
Long long after Christmas gentle spring
Will decorate you with a shining sun
With a shining sun
The chef plucks the geese
Ah! let the snow fall
And fall if only I held
My beloved in my arms
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Marie
You danced there a little girl
Will you dance there a grandmother
It’s the hop skip of the jig
All the bells will ring
But when will you come back Marie
The mummers are silent
The music so far off
It seems to come from the sky
Yes I’d love you but love you only a little
My affliction’s delicious
The sheep move off through the snow
Woolen flocks & silver flakes
Soldiers marching if only I had
A heart of my own a changing heart
Changing but then what do I know
Do I know where your hair will be
Curls unruly as ocean whitecaps
Do I know where your hair will be
And your hands the autumn leaves
That scatter like our vows
I used to walk by the Seine
An ancient book under my arm
The river’s the same as my pain
It flows & never runs dry
When will the week ever end
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
Will you dance there a grandmother
It’s the hop skip of the jig
All the bells will ring
But when will you come back Marie
The mummers are silent
The music so far off
It seems to come from the sky
Yes I’d love you but love you only a little
My affliction’s delicious
The sheep move off through the snow
Woolen flocks & silver flakes
Soldiers marching if only I had
A heart of my own a changing heart
Changing but then what do I know
Do I know where your hair will be
Curls unruly as ocean whitecaps
Do I know where your hair will be
And your hands the autumn leaves
That scatter like our vows
I used to walk by the Seine
An ancient book under my arm
The river’s the same as my pain
It flows & never runs dry
When will the week ever end
Apollinaire
translation © Jack Hayes 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Traveler
Open this door where I'm knocking in tears
Life is unsettled as Euripos straits
You were watching a cloudbank descending
With the orphan steamship toward future fevers
And all those regrets and all those repentances
Do you remember
Waves arched fish surmarine flowers
One night it was the sea
And the rivers spread wide there
I remember I still remember
One evening I stopped at a gloomy inn
Near the Luxembourg
At the back of the room a Christ was flying
Someone had a ferret
Someone else a hedgehog
We played cards
And you had forgotten me
Do you remember the railway stations’ long orphanage
We passed through cities that spun round all the day
And vomited the sun all the night
O sailors o dark women and you my comrades
Do you remember
Two sailors who never parted
Two sailors who never spoke
The youngest died capsized
Dear companions
The railway stations’ electric chimes the reapers’ song
A butcher’s sled regiment of countless streets
The bridges’ cavalry nights livid with alcohol
Towns I’ve seen living like madwomen
Do you recall the suburbs the plaintive flock of landscapes
Cypresses cast their shadows under the moon
That night at summer’s decline I heard
An inflamed languorous bird and
The eternal sound of a wide dark river
But dying & spinning toward the estuary
Were all the glances all the glances of all eyes
The banks were deserted grassy silent
And on the other side the mountain stood clear
Then soundlessly without seeing a living soul
Living shadows passed across the mountain
In profile or suddenly turning blurred faces
Keeping their lances’ shadows always forward
These shadows against this sheer mountain
Grew or now & then abruptly shrank
And these beard shadows wept as if human
Gliding step by step along the clear mountain
Who do you remember in these old photos
Do you remember the day a bee dropped into the fire
It was you recall at the end of summer
Two sailors who’d never parted
The elder wore an iron chain round his neck
The younger kept his blond hair in a pigtail
Open this door where I'm knocking in tears
Life is unsettled as Euripos straits
Apollinaire
translation, Jack Hayes © 2010
Life is unsettled as Euripos straits
You were watching a cloudbank descending
With the orphan steamship toward future fevers
And all those regrets and all those repentances
Do you remember
Waves arched fish surmarine flowers
One night it was the sea
And the rivers spread wide there
I remember I still remember
One evening I stopped at a gloomy inn
Near the Luxembourg
At the back of the room a Christ was flying
Someone had a ferret
Someone else a hedgehog
We played cards
And you had forgotten me
Do you remember the railway stations’ long orphanage
We passed through cities that spun round all the day
And vomited the sun all the night
O sailors o dark women and you my comrades
Do you remember
Two sailors who never parted
Two sailors who never spoke
The youngest died capsized
Dear companions
The railway stations’ electric chimes the reapers’ song
A butcher’s sled regiment of countless streets
The bridges’ cavalry nights livid with alcohol
Towns I’ve seen living like madwomen
Do you recall the suburbs the plaintive flock of landscapes
Cypresses cast their shadows under the moon
That night at summer’s decline I heard
An inflamed languorous bird and
The eternal sound of a wide dark river
But dying & spinning toward the estuary
Were all the glances all the glances of all eyes
The banks were deserted grassy silent
And on the other side the mountain stood clear
Then soundlessly without seeing a living soul
Living shadows passed across the mountain
In profile or suddenly turning blurred faces
Keeping their lances’ shadows always forward
These shadows against this sheer mountain
Grew or now & then abruptly shrank
And these beard shadows wept as if human
Gliding step by step along the clear mountain
Who do you remember in these old photos
Do you remember the day a bee dropped into the fire
It was you recall at the end of summer
Two sailors who’d never parted
The elder wore an iron chain round his neck
The younger kept his blond hair in a pigtail
Open this door where I'm knocking in tears
Life is unsettled as Euripos straits
Apollinaire
translation, Jack Hayes © 2010
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