dream ice wind

11:18 AM Posted by James Owens









rêve
sans fin
ni trêve
à rien

-Samuel Beckett


reive--
no end
nor leave--
the wind

(my own not-exactly-translation)




in die Traumwäscherei ohne sorge sei ohne sorge
was aber geschieht
am besten
wenn Totenstille

eintritt

-Ingeborg Bachmann


in the dream laundry carefree be carefree
but what happens
best of all
when dead silence

sets in

(translated by Peter Filkins)


----------------------------------------------------------





To the Roaring Wind

What syllable are you seeking,
Vocalissimus,
In the distances of sleep?
Speak it.

-Wallace Stevens


New poems are coming soon. I promise.

I’ve been so entranced by newfound possibilities that this has turned into a photography blog in recent days --- though I haven’t forgotten (as it says on the tin) that the original aim was poetry. I am, yes, in love with the silence of photographs, just as I have always loved the quiet at the end of poems --- the poem is essentially a way of finding a better silence, nicht wahr? --- (and I categorically reject the thought that photography and poetry are fundamentally different) --- but still, I feel a bit of a slacker, as Dylan Thomas:

On no work of words now for three lean months in the bloody
Belly of the rich year and the big purse of my body
I bitterly take to task my poverty and craft:

….The lovely gift of the gab bangs back on a blind shaft.


But no, not “bitterly.”

Poems are coming….
.

16 comments:

Lady Jo said...

J'adore ces glaçons ;-) le poème en allemand est très triste....évidemment le silence de la mort !!!!
Je comprends la langue germanique , j'habite à 30km de la frontière, par contre l'anglais hum !!! pas trop, juste un peu ! l'espagnol oui ! mais là j'habite tout de même à presque 1000km de la frontière....
Merci pour ces partages .

James Owens said...

Lady Jo: Merci pour ta visite. Ich verstehe nur ein bisschen Deutsch. Aber ich liebe die deutsche Dichtung --- alors j’essaie de la lire, et peu à peu j’apprends quelques mots…. Je ne comprends pas l’espagnol -- qui me serait bien utilisable, il y a beaucoup de monde ici qui le parlent (et personne ne parle allemand ou français….) Mais je suis content de savoir que les images transcendent les différences de langue :-) Est-ce il y a de glaçons chez toi?

namaki said...

I like this atmosphere ... although it's ice cold ;-)

clo said...

bonjour James....
merci pour ta visite et tres contente de decouvrir ton espace....
et ...je parle le français...un peu l'anglais mais d'une maniere un peu limitative..:o)
oui heureusement que le visuel se passe de mots...mais c'est bien agréable de pouvoir dire avec precision ou emotion ce que les photos des autres nous inspirent...
je vais continuer la decouverte de ton blog...
je te souhaite une bonne soirée...:o)

Claire said...

and i will be back to enjoy both if that is ok?

the silence at the end of a poem...

i have not thought of this concept but i like it very much. it is real and yes, it is very much part of every poem. sometimes it is empty and on some occasions it is pregnant with fullness.

Oxygène said...

Bonsoir James ! Merci de m'avoir fait parvenir le lien vers ton blog. C'est amusant de voir que j'ai choisi le même modèle de blog que toi pour "Les chroniques d'Oxygène".
Tes photos des stalactites de glace sont magnifiques. J'aime beaucoup aussi la photo de ce reflet qui ressemble à un lac de mercure ou d'argent.
It was a beautiful walk ("balade") on your pages... Thanks a lot !

James Owens said...

Namaki: There will be warmer pics in the spring :-) For now, the world (this world) is buried in snow and ice and enjoys the aesthetics of 20 degrees of frost.... I can only dream of the sun and a warm wind from the south ... thank you for your visit!

James Owens said...

Bonjour, Clo: J’ai été ravi de découvrir les belles photos sur ton blog, et tu es la bienvenue ici … Je suis d’accord -- c’est bon lorsque on trouve les mots pour exprimer l’émotion qu’une image fait vivre en soi -- mais il y a également les images qui résistent, qui gardent leur silence sans compromis…. Je les aime surtout….

James Owens said...

Claire: Of course it is ok :-) Come back often, and enjoy anything you find here that is worth the attention.... The silence at the end of the poem --- yes, it has always seemed to me that a good poem ends with the invitation into silence. It ends with a balance, an equilibrium that makes one want to say, “Yes, that’s it … to speak now would only be a loss….” It may be true that all the arts aspire to the condition of music, but music itself aspires to the silent held breath that follows the final note….

James Owens said...

Merci, Oxygène, de m’avoir fait cette visite. Je suis content que tu as trouvé ici quelque chose d’agréable. Reviens souvent balader (ou bien “ballader,” comme tu voudrais :-)

Sorlil said...

Can never get enough of pictures of water! Looking forward to the poems too of course and how nice to have a face to look at! Now I have no memory of what your profile pic has been up till now! :)

James Owens said...

Sorlil: More water on the way :-) Its possibilities seem endless.... The old picture was a drawing by Paul Klee called "Birds Making Scientific Investigation into Sex" --- I suspect I liked it for the title more than for the drawing itslf --- but it had started to look so dreary and gray, in these black and white months....

chrome3d said...

Fun metamorphosis from icicles to water and eventually to wet gas station. There is true poetry in every day places.

James Owens said...

Chrome3d: I've wondered about that gas station picture, whether it really fits with the others ... and I'm still not sure ... I think maybe I simply liked it and wanted to get it in, even if it didn't fit ... impatient :-) But I'm glad you liked it! "true poetry in every day places" --- yes :-)

Roxana said...

i was searching for this Blandiana poem and meanwhile you have posted another one of her poems :-)

no translation, but you will understand :-)


Orga de gheaţă

Se aude ceva,
Nu-i aşa?
E muzica
Orgii de gheaţă
Care-mi atârnă de streaşină.
Nu reuşesc să disting
Nici un sunet,
Dar ştiu,
Sunt convinsă,
Că nu se poate
Să nu se audă nimic,
Iar acest instrument
Perfect
Şi atât de repede pieritor
Să fi fost inventat
Numai
Pentru cine ştie ce
Nevăzut, îndepărtat,
Indiferent
Ascultător.


there is the same silent music within photographs, and now you not only listen to it (how well you have always known to do that, J) - but also make us hear it. and this makes me immensely happy.

James Owens said...

Roxana: Oh! Thank you so much for this! I'm sitting here with my mouth hanging open --- this is so beautiful and perfect. But you ... you know very well I won't be able to resist this :-)

... but I am humbled and made shy by the things you say ... if there is really anything here that is worth anyone's attenton, I think it would have never happened without your kind attention to my posts over the past couple of years ...