Poem of the Day: With only one life by Marin Sorescu

Hold with both hands
The tray of every day
And pass in turn
Along this counter.

There is enough sun
For everybody.
There is enough sky,
And there is moon enough.

The earth gives off the smell
Of luck, of happiness, of glory,
Which tickles your nostrils

So don’t be miserly,
Live after your heart.
The prices are derisory.

For instance, with only one life
You can acquire
The most beautiful woman,
Plus a biscuit.

[Trans. Joana Russell-Gebbett and D.J. Enright]


cinnamon swirl

I love to swipe the crispy flakes of leftover pastry
in the steel trays of Sainsbury’s bakery section.

It’s not a sin,
or is it?

Isn’t it?
It’s harmless!

They would have thrown them away
anyways, into the putrid food waste bag,
alongside a load of unopened packets
which lie discarded, rejected, reduced,
and perfectly edible,
but awfully illegal to give
to the starving mouths in this city
and on these streets
for some reason.

Some friends of mine fish out these remains
to save some expense from their always shrinking pockets
and their always worrying conscience.

Last they told me,
in utter lament-

“They locked the bins.”

Access to their trash.
Our treasure.

because you are there

my love,
my love,
my thoughts are eager children
wanting to tell you
about their recent discoveries,
whether playful or tame,
wanting to indulge you with
pointless games

just to look up to you
and smile
for nothing other
than a plain and innocent reason-

because you are there,
and you care.

cut me open

the pain
in your unwilling honesty
inspires me
to cut open my own veins
and share with you
the warmth of my own sorrow

so you may taste
the fire
in my blood
and see
how the flame
will come back

Let Me Coat Your Body

Let me coat your body, my love
Let me drink your tears.
Feel the physical strain.
Let me throw myself
in front of
projectile words
that cause you pain.

Let me attempt to vanquish
the demons that scold you.

Your sacrifice
will never be in vain.

Your willingness
is fair and bold.

As you dare to love me,
veins, tendrils, more visible,
Hopelessness more frequent
than I’ve witnessed

Let me clutch at my chest,
Wedge out bodies together-
So your hurt can be mine
And my strength can be yours.

Contemplation #1

Your mind
fast to dry,

Slow to mould,
to try refine.

You’ve the glasses,
But still blind-

Sighted by
specific “whys”.

Too deluded
to deny.

Too afraid
to dare defy.

With the norms
you have complied.

Not emotionally tried.

Looked inside yourself,
and lied.

Searched inside yourself
and cried.

to abide.

Locked your true heart
deep inside.

Wished to free yourself
and sighed.

For a part of you
has died.

Translation of the day: ¿Refutación de Séneca? – Francisco Ruiz Noguera (ES)/(EN)

¿Refutación de Séneca? [ES]
publicado en El laberinto de Zinc, una revista de poesía – Málaga, Primavera (2001).

Porque en un mar tranquilo
cualquiera es buen piloto,
por conocer el mar.
Unas nociones previas:

¿gobernarse a sí mismo,
el máximo gobierno?,

¿es la sabiduría
el único camino
para la libertad?

Saber el propio cuerpo.

Saber la esclavitud
alegre de los brazos.

Saber del desgobierno
que impone la pasión.

¿Cuál es el mar tranquilo?,
¿el que sabe del rumbo
cambiante del deseo,
o el que cree en las brisa
fija del espejismo
de una falsa bonanza inamovible?

A Refutation of Seneca? [EN] 

in a tranquil ocean
anything is a good pilot;
Let us begin
to get to know the ocean.
Some preconceived notions:

To govern the self,
with maximum authority?

Is wisdom
the only path
to liberty?

To know one’s own body.

To know of slavery,
cheerfulness of arms.

To know of the misgovernment
that impedes the passions

Which is the tranquil ocean?
That knows the constantly changing course of desire,
believes in the fixed breeze in mirages
of a false immovable bonanza.