Sunday, May 31, 2026

1210. The Two Of Us Together And Each Of Us Alone - Yehuda Amichai

 Translated from the Hebrew by Chana Bloch and Chana Kronfeld


        “The two of them together and each of them alone”

          —from a rental contract


Another summer, my girl, is over and gone,

And Dad didn’t come to Luna Park to play.

Still, all the swings go on swinging away.

The two of us together and each of us alone.


The seas horizon keeps losing its ships-

Holding onto anything now is hard indeed.

The fighters are waiting behind the hills.

Compassion is what we dearly need.

The two of us together and each of us alone.


The moon is sawing the clouds in half.

Come, let’s step forth for a lovers’ duel.

Just the two of us at love before the warring camps.

It still may be possible to change it all.

The two of us together and each of us alone.


My love turns me like a salt sea it seems,

Into sweet drops of autumn’s first rain.

I’m brought to you slowly as I fall. Take me in.

For us there’s no angel who will come to redeem.

For we are together. Each of us alone


The two of us together and each one alone - Yehuda Amichai


    Translated from the Hebrew by A.Z. Foreman


My dear, another summer's turned dark

And my dad hasn't come to the amusement park.

The seesaw still goes up and down.

The two of us together and each one alone.


The horizon loses its ships off the shore. 

Hard to hold onto a thing anymore.

The fighters crouched behind the hill.

How much we need of mercy still!

The two of us together and each one alone.


The moon is sawing the clouds in two.

Let hand-to-hand love bring me against you.

We alone will make love where the two camps fight.

Perhaps we can still make everything right.

The two of us together and each one alone.

 

My love has changed me, it seems plain, 

As the salt sea to drops of sweet first rain.

I am brought to you slowly and falling, my dear.

Receive me. No angel redeems us here.

Because the two of us are together. Each is alone.


Thursday, May 21, 2026

1209. Jorge Luis Borges - Jorge Luis Borges

 

But after all

writing poetry

is nothing more 

than a guided dream

and now now advanced age

has taught me

to resign myself

to being Borges.

Saturday, May 09, 2026

1208. As Seen At The Uffizi - Dan Brown -

 

An audience of shepherds 

Looks on adoringly

As Mary gently bounces

The babe upon her knee.


To Mary’s side stands Joseph.

He isn’t looking on.

His gaze is middle distance 

He wishes he were gone.


Up into the high mountains

That rim the little town 

To dwell among the shepherds

Till things have settled down.

Sunday, April 19, 2026

1207. Our Two Silences - Anna Swir

 

Translated from the Polish by Czeslaw Milosz and Leonard Nathan


Silence

flows into me and out of me

washing my past away.

I am pure already waiting for you. Bring me 

your silence.


They will doze off

nestled in each other’s arms,

our two silences. 

Saturday, March 28, 2026

1206. A Call - Seamus Heaney


“Hold on,” she said, “I’ll just run out and get him.

The weather here’s so good, he took the chance

To do a bit of weeding.”


So I saw him

Down on his hands and knees beside the leek rig,

Touching, inspecting, separating one

Stalk from the other, gently pulling up

Everything not tapered, frail and leafless,

Pleased to feel each little weed-root break,

But rueful also…


Then found myself listening to

The amplified grave ticking of hall clocks

Where the phone lay unatended in a calm

Of mirror glass and sun struck pendulums…


And found myself then thinking: if it were nowadays,

This is how Death would summon Everyman.


Next thing he spoke and I nearly said I loved him.

Saturday, March 14, 2026

1205. Thumbprint - Eve Merriam

 


On the pad of my thumb

are whorls, whirls, wheels

in a unique design:

mine alone.

What a treasure to own!

My own flesh, my own feelings.

No other, however grand or base,

can ever contain the same.

My signature,

thumbling the pages of my time

My universe key,

my singularity.

Impress, implant,

I am myself,

of all my atom parts I am the sum.

And out of my blood and my brain

I make my own interior weather,

my own sun and rain.

Imprint my mark upon the world

whatever I shall become.

Monday, February 23, 2026

1204. Symphony in Yellow - Oscar Wild

 


An omnibus across the bridge

   Crawls like a yellow butterfly,

   And, here and there, a passer-by

Shows like a little restless midge.


Big barges full of yellow hay

   Are moored against the shadowy wharf.

   And, like a yellow silken scarf,

The thick fog hangs along the quay.


The yellow leaves begin to fade

   And fluter from the Temple elms,

   And at my feet the pale green thames

Lies like a rod of rippled jade.


Monday, February 09, 2026

1203. Years Later - David Palmer Grenell

In the dusty triangular attic

a box of old school books.

Inside, a worn volume of poems,

a page turned down at the corner-


my father and I, meeting again,

depending on The Red Wheelbarrow. 

Tuesday, January 20, 2026

1202. Love in A Flat - Lauren K. Alleyne

 

after Dean Young


Dean in a story about Coltrane:

how one time in a recording, he hit

a wrong note—a real clam.

In the second take, he hit it again,

this time harder, longer.

The third time, it became the heart—

the sound all the other notes wrap themselves around,

a different understanding of the melody—

the song beneath the song: the stubborn beat

holding up the heaviness of flesh.

Saturday, January 03, 2026

1201. For Guy Davenport - Wendell Berry


Within the circles of our lives

we dance the circles of the years,

the circles of the seasons

within the circles of the years,

and the cycles of the moon

within the circles of the seasons,

the circles of our reasons

within the cycles of the moon.


Again, again we come and go,

changed, changing. Hands

join, unjoin in love and fear,

grief and joy. The circles turn,

each giving into each, into all.

Only music keeps us here,


each by all the others held.

In the hold of hands and eyes

we turn in pairs, that joining

joining each to all again.


and then we turn aside, alone,

out of the sunlight gone


into the darker circles of return.