*
If
you like Billy Collins, you'll like Benny Andersen, the wonderful Danish poet—
I've
expressed my admiration for Collins many times on my various blogs, I think
he's a magnificent poet, one of the best living poets on the planet—
I'm
jealous of course of his success and popularity, but even more, I'm envious of
the verse itself:
I
don't think I've ever finished reading a Collins poem without muttering to
myself something along the lines of "Gee, I wish I'd written this,"
or "God, I wish I'd thought of that idea," or "Huh, I wish I
could write a poem half as good as this," or other whimpers of that nature—
Anyway,
back to Andersen—but wait, I wasn't thinking of him today, I was thinking about
finding a poem to post for Valentine's Day and what came to mind was Esther
Jansma,
do
you know her work? A Dutch poet, born 1958. A Selected Poems in
English is available (I'll post a link below) . . .
Here's
two of her rather astonishing love poems, translated by the late great James
Brockway:
/
The
Lovers
He
lay washed up on red rocks
and
dreamed her voice was calling him, sand
scattered
over him and blowing away.
The
sea lay itself down on his breast.
His
heart was the breeding-ground of
colourful
birds. The wind came back.
One
by one the birds rose up,
they
shrieked and fell upwards, helpless,
they
were swept aside.
When
she found him his heart was a wound,
a
deserted chamber, the difference between him
and
the ground was love, no more.
She
lifted him up. Gently she tried
to
close his lips. In the ship
she
tried to close his mouth.
She
grew silent and pressed his lips together.
She
grew silent and laid his arms round her neck.
It
worked. His head lies on her shoulder.
He
is silent. They set sail. They are everything
to
each other.
/
Descent
We
crossed the Styx.
The
ferryman lay drunk in his boat.
I
took the helm and we sank like stones.
Water
like the earth consists of layers,
transparent
ribbons, glistening strata
of
ever less life, less warmth.
Bubbles
blossomed in your hair,
the
current tugged your head backwards
and
caressed your throat.
Stones
waved with algae and ferns,
gurgled
softly, sang of 'peace'.
They
sliced your clothes away.
Fish
licked the blood from your legs.
I
held your hand tight. I wanted to
comfort you,
but
we were falling too fast and no words can exist
without
air; my love
lay
above, blue balloons, brief buoys,
marking
the site of the accident,
before
flowing on. Your mouth fell open,
your
face turned red, your two hands sought
for
balance, sought my arms.
You
tried to climb up inside me.
You
were a glass blower with a cloud of diamonds
circling
his mouth. I hugged you like a kitten.
I
stroked your fingers.
You
held on tight.
You
fell asleep. I stroked your fingers, let
go.
/
Link
to Esther Jansma, Selected Poems in English book:
//
Looking
on my Scandinavian poetry shelf for the Jansma book, I noticed Benny Andersen
and pulled out his book of Selected Poems in English—
/
In
addition to recommending Jansma and Andersen, I want to direct attention to the
John Irons blog (see sidebar blog list for link) which features his bravura
translations from Scandinavian poets, and which very amenably has a
downloadable list of all the versions he's published there— If you are in any
way interested at all in Scandinavian poetry (and if you're reading my blog, you darn well should be!), his site is a must for your don't-miss
list—
Here
hopefully for your delectation are the Andersen translations he's posted there,
with titles and dates, in his archives:
Andersen, Benny:
Adultery and love
|
25.12.12
|
Andersen, Benny: Closet
Swedes
|
02.07.12
|
Andersen, Benny:
Diet
|
28.12.12
|
Andersen Benny: The
muddy tongue (Svantes Viser)
|
07.12.09
|
Andersen, Benny:
High time
|
18.02.10
|
Andersen, Benny:
Little Song for Nina (Svantes Viser)
|
06.12.09
|
Andersen, Benny:
Morning Anthem
|
05.09.12
|
Andersen, Benny:
Svante’s black song
|
28.10.10
|
Andersen, Benny:
Svante’s drinking song
|
08.09.12
|
Andersen, Benny: The
poetics of preservation
|
04.11.10
|
Andersen, Benny: The
seasons
|
04.02.11
|
///
No comments:
Post a Comment