An evocation of the 'tended space' as metaphor for unlimited space. Maybe a metaphor too, for the tended space of the poem itself.
Translated from the French
Beyond the wall a tree that twists its gnarly trunk.
In me there's no beyond. And all thinks and all weighs.
A point where certainty may reconcile with luck,
Where colour vanishes and fades into absence
Where speech unites with void which abolishes it.
I am aware of naught but a benzoin scent.
Down to the depths of dream just a murmur that drifts.
Further away from me than the stars is that line
Over which there is no ferry to carry me.
I shall be able to invent a space of mine
Or never get over this stone boundary.
***********
Jardin sec. Pierre et pensée. Ciel et silence.
Un arbre tord son tronc au delà du mur.
En toi nul au delà . Tout pèse et tout pense.
Un point pour concilier le sort et le sûr
Où la couleur s'évanouit en absence,
Où la sentence au néant s'unit et meurt.
Seul un parfum de benjoin que tu recenses.
Seule aux profondeurs du songe une rumeur.
Plus loin que l'astre cette ligne qui passe.
Pour aller outre il n'y a plus de nocher.
Tu devras te réinventer ton espace
Si tu veux franchir le rocher.
Poetry by Michel Galiana
Read 1379 times
Written on 2007-11-10 at 22:38
Tags Galiana Thoughts Philosophy
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Translated from the French
Japanese Garden
Dry garden. Stone and thought. And sky and quietness.Beyond the wall a tree that twists its gnarly trunk.
In me there's no beyond. And all thinks and all weighs.
A point where certainty may reconcile with luck,
Where colour vanishes and fades into absence
Where speech unites with void which abolishes it.
I am aware of naught but a benzoin scent.
Down to the depths of dream just a murmur that drifts.
Further away from me than the stars is that line
Over which there is no ferry to carry me.
I shall be able to invent a space of mine
Or never get over this stone boundary.
***********
Jardin sec. Pierre et pensée. Ciel et silence.
Un arbre tord son tronc au delà du mur.
En toi nul au delà . Tout pèse et tout pense.
Un point pour concilier le sort et le sûr
Où la couleur s'évanouit en absence,
Où la sentence au néant s'unit et meurt.
Seul un parfum de benjoin que tu recenses.
Seule aux profondeurs du songe une rumeur.
Plus loin que l'astre cette ligne qui passe.
Pour aller outre il n'y a plus de nocher.
Tu devras te réinventer ton espace
Si tu veux franchir le rocher.
Poetry by Michel Galiana
Read 1379 times
Written on 2007-11-10 at 22:38
Tags Galiana Thoughts Philosophy
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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