星子天空

The Muse,the Apple, the Lemon?

星期四 一月 21, 2010 10:39 am

We talk about the Dream of Water Lily.
voices find resonance,
falling on a rainy night.
They echo the rock’s reply,

like fish leaping out of a river.

The door opens and closes.
We listen to bread and toaster sizzling,
as a love puzzle feeding our still life.
You tell me of the pleasure
of reading a poetess, "a poem herself".

River flows in me,
like a hooked fish,
I listen to the tide’s message.
The tea gets cold on a ferry boat.

I fear to offer
anything
for what appears to be an apple,
may taste like a lemon.

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anna
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帖子发表于: 星期日 一月 24, 2010 6:40 pm    发表主题:
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AA---

who am i to say? but you ask, sort of, so my opinion is that this poem expresses the adult sensibility, mature construction of emotion that i so often saddle on your head
and wish you to consider more abundantly .

pleasant discovery, this pom

very good to find, this pom.

small things first:

no value in repeating the elements of the title in the poem---like hiring two people to do one job---let the title work one level of meaning for the reader, the body of the poem a second.

just my overactive cultural association---but "Pond Lily" reminds me of Ponds beauty cream---

http://www.adclassix.com/a5/34pondscoldcream.html


and the Eli Lilly drug company---that last year settled a false marketing case against its drug zyprexa (spelling ?) at a loss of 800 million---wow!


Quote:
Eli Lilly heiress Ruth Lilly dies at 94

Posted 12/31/2009 10:22 AM

By Will Higgins and Robert King, The Indianapolis Star

Ruth Lilly, a noted philanthropist and last surviving great-grandchild of pharmaceutical magnate Eli Lilly, died Wednesday night at 94, a family spokesman said Thursday morning.

Arrangements are pending.
Over the course of her life, Lilly gave away the bulk of her inheritance, an estimated $800 million.

Yet to many, she was just a name on a building — a library, a hospital wing, a theater, museum exhibits. Lilly, who lived reclusively, was perhaps the most famous person few people ever saw.

Ruth Lilly

1915 – 2009


Lily Pons, born on 12 April, a famous Singer. Lily Pons's background: French-American coloratura soprano. Musically talented, she learned the piano, and at the age of 15, went to play the piano and sing for the soldiers during World War I. After taking singing lessons from Alberti de Gorostiaga in Paris, she proceeded to sing in several lead roles in French Opera houses. She was also a huge hit when she debuted in the U.S., after discovery by impresario Giovanni Zenatello, who took her to New York.


silly, on my part---most readers will think Lilly Pond---as the poem wishes.

believe you are thinking literal---like Basho:



Quote:
The old pond-
a frog jumps in,
sound of water.
Translated by Robert Hass


many translations, i just happen to favor this one.


more complicated is this ted hughes poem---you know he was the husband of sylvia plath at the time of her suicide.


Quote:
How To Paint A Water Lily by Ted Hughes
To Paint a Water Lily

A green level of lily leaves
Roofs the pond's chamber and paves

The flies' furious arena: study
These, the two minds of this lady.

First observe the air's dragonfly
That eats meat, that bullets by

Or stands in space to take aim;
Others as dangerous comb the hum

Under the trees. There are battle-shouts
And death-cries everywhere hereabouts

But inaudible, so the eyes praise
To see the colours of these flies

Rainbow their arcs, spark, or settle
Cooling like beads of molten metal

Through the spectrum. Think what worse
is the pond-bed's matter of course;

Prehistoric bedragoned times
Crawl that darkness with Latin names,

Have evolved no improvements there,
Jaws for heads, the set stare,

Ignorant of age as of hour—
Now paint the long-necked lily-flower

Which, deep in both worlds, can be still
As a painting, trembling hardly at all

Though the dragonfly alight,
Whatever horror nudge her root.


saw no deep; association with your poem, but i know you like ms plath---so just thought to share her late husband's poem relating to yours in subject matter if not treatment.

now, Pond Lily or Lily Pond? reversing the order, is there any advantage? not for me.



We talk about the dream of Pond Lily.




Words find voice,
falling on a raining night.
They echo the rock’s reply,
like fish leaping out of a river.



huh? that's a mouthful of image, nes pas?

voice, rain, night, echo of rocks, fish leaping, river---yipes?

like the christmas song---


The Twelve Days of Christmas



Quote:
The Twelve Days of Christmas (The 12 Days of Christmas)

1 True Love refers to God
2 Turtle Doves refers to the Old and New Testaments
3 French Hens refers to Faith, Hope and Charity, the Theological Virtues
4 Calling Birds refers to the Four Gospels and/or the Four Evangelists
5 Golden Rings refers to the first Five Books of the Old Testament, the "Pentateuch", which gives the history of man's fall from grace.
6 Geese A-laying refers to the six days of creation
7 Swans A-swimming refers to the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, the seven sacraments
8 Maids A-milking refers to the eight beatitudes
9 Ladies Dancing refers to the nine Fruits of the Holy Spirit
10 Lords A-leaping refers to the ten commandments
11 Pipers Piping refers to the eleven faithful apostles
12 Drummers Drumming refers to the twelve points of doctrine in the Apostle's Creed



still not crazy about the cliche contrast here:


The door opens and closes;


now, this, grabs me:

we listen to bread and toaster sizzling,
as a love puzzle to feed our still life.
You tell me of the pleasure
of reading a poetess, a poem herself.


would reduce by one, the use of that "of" word.

you describe your pleasure
reading a poetess


now, this phrase is OK---but saturated for me by the book, a river runs through it.

River flows in me,

combined with "hooked fish" aren't we talking near cliche?

I sense myself—
a hooked fish.


give me less pondering, introduce the "ferry" by slapping small waves against the boat's wooden sides---

on the ferry ride
brown waves
slap the wooden
boat, the tea grows cold.

action in the midst of personal reverie.

now, these last lines catapult the poem for me into a far more interesting dimension:

But why hesitate?

I fear to offer
anything
for what appears to be an apple,
may tastes like a lemon.


me, i rethink the fish stuff---is it needed?

isn't there a better image more connected to your final lines?



i would have the ferry pass close to the lilly pond---


The little boat passes
close to the lilly pond.

you say each bloom is like a poem.
how clever you are on this trip.

you describe your pleasure
reading a poetess

on the ferry ride
brown waves
slap the wooden
boat, the tea grows cold.


But why hesitate?

I fear to offer
anything
for what appears to be an apple,
may tastes like a lemon.

not a plural, "taste" works better, yes?


despite all my comments, i like the poem.


mojave

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