Saturday, April 25, 2015

April is National Poetry Month

In the United States and Canada, April is National Poetry Month.  I was a fan of poetry when I was a child. But as I grew older, I developed an aversion to poetry.  I don't even know where that dislike came from, and maybe aversion is too strong a word - it became more of a resistance to poetry.   This month, a change happened in me and poetry is not as distasteful to me anymore. I have started to read a bit of poetry, and have even written a couple! Maybe I owe this transformation to National Poetry Month. Thank you, Academy of American Poets!

Bare as a jaybird,
Freely being me, myself
And I, unadorned.

Nudity is...Undeniable, open freedom.

IN NUDE by Pablo Neruda

In nude you are as bare as one of your hands

smooth, earthly, small, round, transparent

with lines of moon and paths of an apple,

in nude you’re slender like a naked stem of wheat.

In nude you look blue like the Cuban night

with stars and vines in your hair,

in nude you are whole and yellow

like summer in a church of gold.

In nude you look tiny like one of your finger nails

curvy, subtle, rose-colored like the rising dawn

and you move back to the world's underground.

As if in a large tunnel of robes and chores:

your clarity, dressed, blinds and drops its leaves

and other times becomes a naked hand again.

-tr. Ravi Kopra

DESNUDA por Pablo Neruda

Desnuda eres tan simple como una de tus manos,

Lisa, terrestre, mínima, redonda, transparente,

Tienes líneas de luna, caminos de manzana,

Desnuda eres delgada como el trigo desnudo.

Desnuda eres azul como la noche en Cuba,

Tienes enredaderas y estrellas en el pelo,

Desnuda eres enorme y amarilla

Como el verano en una iglesia de oro.

Desnuda eres pequeña como una de tus uñas,

Curva, sutil, rosada hasta que nace el día

Y te metes en el subterráneo del mundo

Como en un largo túnel de trajes y trabajos:

Tu claridad se apaga, se viste, se deshoja

Y otra vez vuelve a ser una mano desnuda.

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