RESURRECTION
Poetry slips into dreams
like a diver in a lake.
Poetry, braver than anyone,
slips in and sinks
like lead
through a lake infinite as Loch Ness
or tragic and turbid as Lake Balatón.
Consider it from below:
a diver
innocent
covered in feathers
of will.
Poetry slips into dreams
like a diver who’s dead
in the eyes of God.
Roberto Bolaño, The Romantic Dogs, trans. by Laura Healy (London: Picador, 2011), 7.
No comments:
Post a Comment