1178. The Dance - William Carlos Williams, 1944

 

In Breughel’s great picture, The Kermess,

the dancers go round  they go round and

around, the squeal and the blare and the

tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and fiddles

tipping their bellies (round as the thick-

sided glasses whose wash they impound)

their hips and their bellies off balance

to turn them. Kicking and rolling about

the Fair Grounds, swinging their butts, those

shanks must be sound to bear up under such

rollicking and measures, prance as they dance

in Breughel’s great picture, the Kermess.

1177. Seance - Wislawa Szymborska

 Translated from the Polish by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh

Happenstance reveals its tricks.

It produces, by sleight of hand, a glass of brandy

and sits Henry down beside it.

I enter the bistro and stop dead in my tracks.

Henry—he’s none other than

Agnes’s husband’s brother,

and Agnes is related

to Aunt Sophie’s brother-in-law.

It turns out

we’ve got the same great-grandfather.

In happenstance’s hands

space furls and unfurls,

spreads and shrinks.

The tablecloth

becomes a handkerchief.

Just guess who I ran into

in Canada, of all places,

after all these years.

I thought he was dead,

and there he was, in a Mercedes.

On the plane to Athens,

At a stadium in Tokyo.  

Happenstance twirls a kaleidoscope in its hands.

A billion bits of colored glass glitter.

And suddenly Jack’s glass

bumps into Jill’s.

Just imagine in the very same hotel.

I turn around and see—

it’s really her!

Face to face in an elevator.

In a toy store.

At the corner of Maple and Pine.

Happenstance is shrouded in a cloak.

Things get lost in it and are found again.

I stumbled on it accidentally

I bent down and picked it up.

Once look and I knew it,

a spoon from that stolen service.

If it hadn’t been for that bracelet,

I would never have known Alexandra.

The clock? It turned up in Potterville.

Happenstance looks deep into our eyes.

Our head grows heavy.

Our eyelids drop.

We want to laugh and cry,

it’s so incredible.

From fourth-grade home room to that ocean liner.

It has to mean something.

To hell and back,

and here we meet halfway home.

We want to shout:

Small world!

You could almost hug it!

And for a moment we are filled with joy,

radiant and deceptive.

1176. Late Abed - Archibald MacLeish

Ah, but a good wife!

To lie late in a warm bed

(warm where she was) with your life

suspended like a music in the head,

hearing her foot in the house, her broom

on the pine floor of the down-stairs room,

hearing the window toward the sun go up,

the tap turned on, the tap turned off,

the saucer clatter to the coffee cup . . .

To lie late in the odor of coffee

thinking of nothing at all, listening . . .

and she moves here, she moves there,

and your mouth hurts still where last she kissed you:

you think how she looked as she left, the bare

thigh, and went to her adorning . . .

You lie there listening and she moves –––

prepares her house to hold another morning,

prepares another day to hold her loves . . .

You lie there

thinking of nothing

watching the sky . . .

1175. Psalm - Richard Wilbur

 Give thanks for all things

On the plucked lute, and likewise

The harp of ten strings.

Have the lifted horn

Greatly blare, and pronounce it

Good to have been born.

Lend the breath of life

To the stops of the sweet flute.

Or capering fife,

And tell the deep drum

To make at the right juncture,

Pandemonium.

Then, in grave relief,

Praise too our sorrows on the

Cello of shared grief. 

1174. Veterinarians - A. R. Zari

because their patients cannot tell them

what’s wrong they say veterinarians
are the noblest doctors they say
that when he died St. Augustine
was the only person in the town
who owned any books they say Freud said
mental health is the capacity to love
and to work they say a chimpanzee
named Washoe learned sign language in the 60s
they say Augustine went to visit the Bishop of Milan
and the bishop would read without speaking
the words out loud they say he sensed the meaning
with his heart but that his tongue was still they
say this was the invention of reading silently
they say one of Washoe’s caretakers was pregnant
and missed work for several weeks after miscarrying
Washoe greeted her coldly when she finally came back
the caretaker told Washoe what happened
and signed MY BABY DIED
Washoe looked down and touched the corner
of her own eye and drew her finger down
her cheek they say chimpanzees can’t
shed tears but can recognize the path they take

1173. On Reading A Biography Of George Washington - Eloise Klein Healy

There is no cherry tree.

There is mud and blood and winter.

There are letters and orders to his farm manager

written by candle light detailing chores to do.

There are letters written to his British broker

complaining about low prices for his corn.

There is nothing lofty written about democracy

but there is something about the country

he surveyed beyond the mountains.

There is nothing about democracy yet

but he is tired of being told what

he can and cannot do.

Tired. Of a King.

Of being told what he can

and cannot do in his country.

There is a letter in which he orders

a uniform he designed himself.

It does not fit very well

because he does not know his size.

He wears it anyway.

Democracy.

Design and redesign and self-design.

Democracy.

Something lofty was written

in mud and blood and winters.

Democracy.

1172. Like This - Mewling Jalaluddin Rumi

Translated by Coleman Barks with John Moyne

If anyone asks you

how the perfect satisfaction

of all our sexual wanting

will look, lift your face

and say,

   Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness

of the night sky, climb up on the roof

and dance and say,

   Like this.

If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is,

or what "God’s fragrance" means,

lean your head toward him or her.

Keep your face there close.

   Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image

about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,

slowly loosen knot by knot the strings

of your robe.

   Like this.

If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,

don’t try to explain the miracle.

Kiss me on the lips.

   Like this.

When someone asks what it means

to "die for love,

  Point here.

If someone asks how tall I am, frown

and measure with your fingers the space

between the creases on your forehead.

   This tall.

The soul sometimes leaves the body, then returns.

When someone doesn’t believe that,

walk back into my house.

   Like this.

When lovers moan,

they’re telling our story.

   Like this.

I am a sky where spirits live.

Stare into this deepening blue,

while the breeze says a secret.

   Like this.

When someone asks what there is to do,

light the candle in his hand.

   Like this.

How did Joseph’s scent come to Jacob?

   Huuuuu. 

How did Jacob’s sight return?

   Huuuu.

A little wind cleans the eyes.

   Like this.

When Shams comes back from Tabriz,

he’ll put just his head around the edge

of the door to surprise us

Like this.

(Huuuuu means breath out)