Thursday, August 29, 2013

I plucked a wildflower

Written by my father, translated by me

I plucked a wildflower from my resting place   
And it was blue, as if it wore my name, my face   
But I was startled suddenly by a snake   
Who slinked across the path with one tail shake   
   
I plucked a wildflower from my grave, behind   
And in silence, my daughter came to mind   
Where are you now? The wave swept you away   
In a velvety evening, an eve of dew and ray   

I was penetrated by a pouring rain   
And for a moment, somehow, I felt alive again   
Sensing me, the worms began to rave   
I plucked a wildflower from my grave.   

And a chorus of crickets kicked off a singsong   
Climbing up the wall I danced away, so long!   
There's no death in life, no need to feel so sad,   
I would've come back already if it were all that bad   

There were a few I didn't know among the mourners    
I asked myself where they came from, what far corners    
The crowd was small, such pity! Some were sad   
To those who cried, I smiled and waved a tad.   

I left countless bills behind me, heavy debts   
Come over, I'll pay them back, you bet!   
I stare at you across the big divide   
With obvious advantage: no interest on this side 

Take a listen:  
 
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Detail from the oil painting that is used for the cover of Home

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4 comments:

  1. Beautiful! And beautifullly read!

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  2. This is stunning. I'm totally enthralled. After studying poetry in my Masters program, I abandoned it. I felt like such a dunce that I turned away.
    But another poet and you have awakened a love and I'm excited!

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  3. Wow Ellen, truly glad to have touched and reawakened your love of poetry!

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