various transcreated poems
the garden
you who are truly sick in the heart—
you whose suffering seizes your open mind—
quiet now, it’s past the time for crying—
past the hour of the bitter self—
come to the garden of my poems—
come—
compared to the taste of the poems i know—
honey is sour, and myrrh is a foul odor—
through the poems i know—
sound reaches the deaf, and speech comes to stammerers—
from the poems i know—
the blind say the meaning of light, and the lame learn all racing—
grief and despair themselves seek refuge in the poems i know—
and all who are sick at heart, and all whose cry is real—
even you.
—moshe ibn ezra (1055-1158), from the hebrew
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from lu chi’s wen fu, poems on the art of writing
translated from the chinese by sam hamill, as interpreted by jason francisco
number 10: shadow and echo and jade
it might be that only a single bud
from the whole bouquet will bloom—
it might be that only a single stalk of corn
rises in the field—
shadows—fall through the fingers
echoes—cannot be grasped
poor work is obvious work,
it will not join with any form of music—
when the mind is caged and separate
it controls nothing—
when your mind is forced only to live as the one you call yourself
your spirit will wander—
when a vein of jade is revealed in the rock—
the entire mountain glistens—
shadows—fall through the fingers
echoes—cannot be grasped
images, to be images, must shine
like pearls in water—
a thornbush, to be a thornbush, must be unpruned
and left to a glorious disarray—
a common song that is sung to a great melody
is one more way to find beauty—
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a garden beyond paradise
by jelaluddin rumi
translated by jonathan star from the persian
adapted by jason francisco
everything you see has its roots in the unseen world.
the forms may change, but the source remains the same.
every wonder will vanish, every sweet word will fade.
but keep your heart heartened!
the source they come from endures—
growing, branching out, giving new life and new joy.
why do you weep?—the source is within you,
and this whole world is springing up from it.
the source is full, its waters flow and keep flowing;
why grieve? drink!
from the moment you came into this world,
a ladder was placed in front of you, and you climbed it.
from earth, you became plant, and from plant you became animal.
afterward you became a human being, replete with knowledge, intellect and faith.
look at your body, made of dust and ashes—a remarkable pulse of life!
why should you fear its end? when were you ever made less by dying?
when you pass beyond this human form, no doubt you will become an angel
and travel through vaster heavens! don’t worry that even heavenly bodies grow old.
pass from the heavenly realms and plunge into the ocean of consciousness.
let the drop of water that is you become a hundred mighty seas.
and don’t think that the drop alone becomes the ocean—
the ocean, too, becomes the drop!