Archive for the ‘Wallace Stevens’ Category

Ways of Looking (At a Blackbird)

January 6, 2014

I’ve been to three minds
and twenty snowy mountains
as a tree with three

blackbirds moves in the
autumn wind whirled with small mimes.
A man and woman:

I am one. A man
and woman and a blackbird:
I am one. I know

what you want: beauty
of inflection and beauty
of cues, the blackbird

whistling “Teddy”
and the long icicles of
l’ombra del merlo.

It’s gone back and forth,
a vidrio barbaro
mood described in the

shade, the thin cause of
indecipherable birds.
Haddam, know-golden,

noble, imagine
the blackbird walking the walk,
understand accents,

inescapable
women, clearer rhythms; I
know the blackbird is

involved. How do I
know? When the blackbird flew out
of sight he scored clubs

from a crew of green
pimps, the perforated edge
of a glass fear. The

float of time has been
modified. Fly, euphony!
The moving river

is looking at the
same blackbirds snowing, and the
thirteenth century

cried all afternoon
in Connecticut, evening
going among snow

as the blackbird sat
in snow shadow, cried in art
shadow of cedar.

[via Italian-Romanian-Swedish-Spanish-Slovak, Bing translator]

Advertisements

Wallace Stevens

April 8, 2010

The Emperor of Ice Cream (Triptych)

1.

Call the big cigar,
muscle a roll, call his cheese
in the kitchen and

whip concupiscent.
To wear the clothes, linger as
they used to, allow

children to spend a
month on wenches. So therefore,
yes, it can result.

The emperor is
taken from the three-glass sheet
on the embroidered

spread to meet her in
the face of the transaction
dresser. If the foot-

horny prominence
has to show how cold she is,
come speechless. Post the

beam to light the cool
emperor’s pit-lit candles’
quiet surface view.

[via Thai-Japanese-Slovenian-Swedish, Google and Bing translators]

2.

Looking for a great
cigar, her cylinder cups
vote concupiscent.

Whip-muscular whey
takes advantage of such clothes
and flower children

as are issued to
the wenches of Wisconsin.
One empire includes

her horn-cold flare lamp.
Create a ray . . . The final
projection will take

a page from the glass
emperor who enjoys the
underside of ice.

[via Turkish-Dutch-Hebrew-Hungarian, Bing translator]

3.

Ring a large cigar!
One reel of back muscles will
offer him mass whip

carrots and galley
cups. Set these dress wenches on
dawdle; they used to

let guys put flowers
in last month’s newspapers. Let
be work the final

contract. The only
imperator is not three
glass table buds where

he distributed
his face to cover romance.
Leave the horny feet

on the stupid screen
with the main beam. Only the
lamp is ice cold cream.

[via Finnish-Norwegian-Swedish-Danish-Dutch-Haitian Creole-Polish,
Bing translator]