“In what bare tomb must I lie | To summon the voice | That speaks like my soul?” ~ Andree Chedid, from “Tne Voice”

Two for Tuesday:

A new poet (for me) who I just discovered via my tumblr dash. Love it when that happens.

Flock of Gulls, Marco Island, FL|
by d_thompson (FCC)

The Final Poem

A forge burns in my heart.
I am redder than dawn,
Deeper than seaweed,
More distant than gulls,
More hollow than wells.
But I only give birth
To seeds and to shells.

My tongue becomes tangled in words:
I no longer speak white,
Nor utter black,
Nor whisper gray of a wind-worn cliff,
Barely do I glimpse a swallow,
A shadow’s brief glimmer,
Or guess at an iris.

Where are the words,
The undying fire,
The final poem?
The source of life?

~ Andree Chedid


Heather Clad Moors by the Coast, UK
Wikimedia Commons

Breve Invitee

à ma fille

Ma lande mon enfant ma bruyère
Ma réelle mon flocon mon genêt,
Je te regarde demain t’emporte
Où je ne saurais aller.

Ma bleue mon avril ma filante
Ma vie s’éloigne à reculons,
A toi les oiseaux et la lampe
A toi les torches et le vent.

Mon cygne mon amande ma vermeille
A toi l’impossible que j’aimais
A toi la vie, sel et soleil,
A toi, brève invitée.

So Briefly, My Guest

to my daughter

My moor my child my heather
My real one my snowflake my wild flower,
I watch tomorrow carry you off
Where I can never follow.

My azure my April my free one
My life recedes into the past,
For you, are the birds and the lamp
For you, are the torches and wind.

My swan my almond my amber
For you, are the dreams I once loved
For you, life, its salt and its sun,
For you, so briefly, my guest.

~ Andree Chedid (trans. Judy Cochran in collaboration with Renée Linkhorn)