*
Regional, racial, ethnic, gender, generational, thematic, etcet:
if you look at the dozens and hundreds of anthologies of contemporary USA poetry published over the past two/three decades,
you'll find compilations of poems or poets gathered and linked to represent many categories of differentiation and distinction,
with one exception. There are no anthologies based on class.
Why is there no anthology of rich poets, poets who came from a background of wealth and privilege. Elizabeth Bishop, Robert Lowell, James Merrill, Louise Gluck, William Matthews, Richard Howard, C.K. Williams, Russell Edson et al.
Class is the most important influence on the lives of USAers,
the significant marker which defines who each of us is.
Our culture at its deepest level is founded on class, on its financial and educational inequalities.
We face and interact daily with the continuities and conflicts of class.
It touches and permeates us in every way, in every aspect of our public and private systems.
But in poetry it doesn't matter?—why? because Art exists in a realm separate from Life?
*
Maybe one of the reasons there has never been such an anthol would be the prohibitive cost of obtaining rights, since, not so ironically, rich poets like Gluck and CK Williams demand exorbitant fees to reprint their verse; your average anthologist has to pay through the nose.
Though of course with POD, anyone anywhere can publish rather cheaply a book collection of Gluck's poems as a private pirate edition and distribute copies of it to the void without ever paying a cent to her richness, if anyone anywhere were of a mind to, that is.
///
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
these pages are from about 4/5 years ago:
*
some of the worksheets from my transversion of a Follain poem, with a brief preface:
*
. . . . from Clive Wilmer's review (TLS June 1/07) of the new Ted Hughes compilation Selected Translations. . . . :
"Daniel Weissbort, who edited this selection, tells the story of Hughes taking another poet's translation of a work by the Hungarian Ferenc Juhasz and, without any knowledge of the original language and no Hungarian speaker to advise him, turning that version into a thrilling poem that drives the existing versions off the map."
*
Like Hughes in the case of Juhasz, my transversions are based not on the original, but on translations. . . .
But of course my parlor pastiches will hardly "drive the existing versions off the map." Nor is that their aim, really . . . they're more like exercises, as painters and composers will often attempt "variations on" . . .
*
In the case of this poem "by" Jean Follain, I have worked from translations by Merwin and Romer (they are appended here below my drafts). I'm assuming both their versions are accurate literal renderings of the original's content. Reading them, you can see what I've changed or added, in particular how I've "put back in" references to the biblical characters Adam and Noah, which Follain carefully left out.
It may seem odd that I've taken a poem which is not rhymed even in the original French version (I don't have the Follain text, but based on every poem of his I've ever seen I'm confident this one is similarly not end-rhymed)—why have I taken a vers libre and done this to it. But his poems are often sort of sonnety in their way. Stephen Romer writes: "[Follain's] poems, very rarely more than fifteen lines or so in length, are vignettes . . . " This is from the Introduction to 20th-Century French Poems (Faber, 2002) edited by Romer (see below for more Romer-on-Follain). That "fifteen lines" phrase struck me, and I suddenly wondered if the typical Follain could be read as a sonnet in subterfuge, and if so why not try doing a transversion in that mode . . .
As a further incentive, I worked to make each line decasyllabic.
*
Note: the drafts appear here in reverse, sort of, with the most recent ones above the earlier . . .
*
THE RETURN (after Follain: from Merwin/Romer)
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
in ways for the stranger who's late to come,
but he whose force was never sure of home
may not even pause when faced with its gates.
Clothed wholly in the mendicant's threadbare,
his headwear the tin lid of a trashcan,
he will know to announce himself as man
the prodigal: Hey guys it's me! But where
the mule gnaws roots and the mare's coat burrs dark
and the pig guards the last milk it laps at,—
where the dog has a starred brow and the cat
can augur storms, they have formed their own ark.
Unyielding the response to him must be;
the same it has been since edenity.
*
*
Perhaps for the stranger who's late to come,
It seems for the stranger
At times for the stranger
In ways for the stranger who's late to come,
Ostensibly the stranger late to come,
The one whose force was never sure of home,
Who may not even blink before its gates—
Will he know to announce himself as man
He will dare to announce himself as man
Will he dare to
May not even wince/smirk as he nears its gates—
May not even wince to approach its gates
May not even pause to approach its gates
May not even wink or pause at its gates
May not even pause or blink at its gates
May not even blink at breaching its gates
May not even blink as he gains its gates
as he goals its gates
entering passing
May nonchalant pose before its gates
May strike a nonchalance before its gates
May not even blink when faced with its gates
May not even blink as he nears its gates
May not even blanch when faced with its fates
May not even care when faced with its gates
*
the mule grubs for food, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule mulls root-cud,
the mule cuds up roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
thorn-roots/ weed-roots / wheatshoots /
the mule grazes grass /
the mule drools cudstuff,
the donkey drools cud,
the mules grubs for / spuds for grub
the mule digs / probes / roots for fodder /
the mule gnaws barley, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps up roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps root-cud, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps herb-cud, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule noses roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule noses herbs, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule sniffs herbage, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule gnaws roots and the mare's coat grows dark,
the pig guards the meager milk it laps at,—
the pig guards the milkcurd it laps at,—
where the pig guards the weak milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the bare milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the meek milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the mild milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the last milk it laps at
The mule chews herbs and the mare in her dark
Coat broods, where a meager milk goes lapped at,—
Where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
Can foretell storms, they have formed their own ark.
can augur storms, they have made their own ark
they have cast their own ark.
they have borne their own ark.
where the dog bears a starred brow and the cat
can foretell storms, they have found their own ark.
the mule gnaws herbs and the mare's coat grows dark—
where the pig guards the meager milk it laps at—
where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
where the dog has a starred brow and the cat
can foretell storms—they have formed their own ark.
the mule gnaws grass and the mare in her dark
coat broods and the pig slurps the milk it sips at—
the dog's forehead bears a star and the cat
can fore-sense storms—this farm is like an ark.
coat nods and the pig smears the milk it laps at;
coat broods and the pig laps at a milkmat
coat broods and the pig licks at lumps of milkfat
the mule gnaws herbs and the mare in her dark
coat broods and the pig swigs curds of milkfat—The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
can foretell storms: they have formed their own ark.
the pig laps up a milklet;
the pig laps a milk tricklet
the pig drinks at a thin spigot
coat broods and the pig licks a butterpat
the pig drinks thin its milkfat
Coat broods a meager milk goes lapped at,—
Coat broods and a meager milk is lapped at:
Coat broods and a meager milk gets lapped at;
Coat broods and a meager cream goes lapped at;
where the pig finds meager milk to mouth at
where the pig looks for meager milk to lap at
where the pig pursues a meager milk to lap at—
where the pig finds/has a meager milk to slurp at/splurge at
to lunge at/ to surge at/gush at / gnash at / nosh at/ gorge at
where the pig roots a/roots for meager milk to lap at—
where the pig has a meager milk to nose at—
where the pig roots out meager milk to lap at—
where the pig drools for meager milk to lap at—
where the pig hogs the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig guards the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig hunches over
where the pig hoards the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig defends the meager milk it laps at—
the pig is afraid someone will steal the meager milk it laps at—
the pig is jealous /cautious/ wary/
*
The donkey nibbles through sweets/hills/mallows of thistle
And the mare in her dark coat deepens/becomes/
The mare as her dark coat grows to leather;
the pig burps after milk in a trickle,
the starfaced dog, the cat uninured to weather . . ./
the starfaced dog, the cat who weeps at weather . . .
the starfaced dog, the cat sensitive to weather . . .
the starfaced dog, the cat sensitive to storms.
Coat broods and the mild pigs-milk is lapped at
and the mare in her dark coat—and the pig
who burps his meager milk—and then the dog
with starred brow—the cat sensitive to storms.
the donkey nibbles thistle and the horse
stands in its dark coat and the pig burps at
his meager milk and the dog and the cat
bare starry foreheads and bark at storms.
can fore-sense storms and the dog's forehead
bears a star.
the cat can fore-sense storms
the dog's forehead bears a star and the cat
can fore-sense storms
the donkey nibbles grass and the mare _____
in her dark coat and the pig's milk mustache
*
WELCOME
The sun has washed with white the farm too late /of late
Always for the stranger at last to come, /too late to come
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
Stunned if the stranger should finally come
But he whose roots were /force was /never here at home
May not even blink as he nears its gates—
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
*
So their response to him will be the same
It has been for ever before he came.
It has been ever since before he came.
These animals' response/answer to him will be
The same it has been since antiquity./eternity.
So therefore/even their response to him will be
So the only response to him will be /must be
The same it has been since they left that sea.
The stark response to him will be
The stolid response to him will be
*
/the stranger of me to /that stranger of mine to come
Always for the stranger I am to come
/ never mine
Wearing a rubbish-bin's tophat/tin cover as crown,
Wearing a trash can's tin cover/ coverlid as crown,
He will know to enter/declare the scene his own,
Declaring again/in first-person Friends I am here. Where
in first-person Friends I am here. There where
Declaring Friends your Noah's here! Where
Loud prodigal: Friends I am here. But where
Mere prodigal:
Forked prodigal:
He will know to announce himself as man
The returning prodigal: I'm here! Where
Comeback prodigal: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal and proud: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal and loud: Friends I am here! Where
The prodigal pride: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal with pride: Friends I am here! Where
Pride and prodigal: Friends I am here! Where
Pride prodigal:
/
THE RETURN (after Follain: from Merwin/Romer)
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
in ways for the stranger who's late to come,
but he whose force was never sure of home
may not even pause when faced with its gates.
Clothed wholly in the mendicant's threadbare,
his headwear the tin lid of a trashcan,
he will know to announce himself as man
the prodigal: Friends I am here. But where
the mule gnaws roots and the mare's coat burrs dark
and the pig guards the last milk it laps at,—
where the dog has a starred brow and the cat
can augur storms, they have formed their own ark.
Unyielding the response to him must be;
the same it has been since edenity.
*
*
Perhaps for the stranger who's late to come,
It seems for the stranger
At times for the stranger
In ways for the stranger who's late to come,
Ostensibly the stranger late to come,
The one whose force was never sure of home,
Who may not even blink before its gates—
Will he know to announce himself as man
He will dare to announce himself as man
Will he dare to
May not even wince/smirk as he nears its gates—
May not even wince to approach its gates
May not even pause to approach its gates
May not even wink or pause at its gates
May not even pause or blink at its gates
May not even blink at breaching its gates
May not even blink as he gains its gates
as he goals its gates
entering passing
May nonchalant pose before its gates
May strike a nonchalance before its gates
May not even blink when faced with its gates
May not even blink as he nears its gates
May not even blanch when faced with its fates
May not even care when faced with its gates
*
the mule grubs for food, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule mulls root-cud,
the mule cuds up roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
thorn-roots/ weed-roots / wheatshoots /
the mule grazes grass /
the mule drools cudstuff,
the donkey drools cud,
the mules grubs for / spuds for grub
the mule digs / probes / roots for fodder /
the mule gnaws barley, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps up roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps root-cud, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps herb-cud, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule noses roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule noses herbs, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule sniffs herbage, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule gnaws roots and the mare's coat grows dark,
the pig guards the meager milk it laps at,—
the pig guards the milkcurd it laps at,—
where the pig guards the weak milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the bare milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the meek milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the mild milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the last milk it laps at
The mule chews herbs and the mare in her dark
Coat broods, where a meager milk goes lapped at,—
Where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
Can foretell storms, they have formed their own ark.
can augur storms, they have made their own ark
they have cast their own ark.
they have borne their own ark.
where the dog bears a starred brow and the cat
can foretell storms, they have found their own ark.
the mule gnaws herbs and the mare's coat grows dark—
where the pig guards the meager milk it laps at—
where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
where the dog has a starred brow and the cat
can foretell storms—they have formed their own ark.
the mule gnaws grass and the mare in her dark
coat broods and the pig slurps the milk it sips at—
the dog's forehead bears a star and the cat
can fore-sense storms—this farm is like an ark.
coat nods and the pig smears the milk it laps at;
coat broods and the pig laps at a milkmat
coat broods and the pig licks at lumps of milkfat
the mule gnaws herbs and the mare in her dark
coat broods and the pig swigs curds of milkfat—The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
can foretell storms: they have formed their own ark.
the pig laps up a milklet;
the pig laps a milk tricklet
the pig drinks at a thin spigot
coat broods and the pig licks a butterpat
the pig drinks thin its milkfat
Coat broods a meager milk goes lapped at,—
Coat broods and a meager milk is lapped at:
Coat broods and a meager milk gets lapped at;
Coat broods and a meager cream goes lapped at;
where the pig finds meager milk to mouth at
where the pig looks for meager milk to lap at
where the pig pursues a meager milk to lap at—
where the pig finds/has a meager milk to slurp at/splurge at
to lunge at/ to surge at/gush at / gnash at / nosh at/ gorge at
where the pig roots a/roots for meager milk to lap at—
where the pig has a meager milk to nose at—
where the pig roots out meager milk to lap at—
where the pig drools for meager milk to lap at—
where the pig hogs the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig guards the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig hunches over
where the pig hoards the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig defends the meager milk it laps at—
the pig is afraid someone will steal the meager milk it laps at—
the pig is jealous /cautious/ wary/
*
The donkey nibbles through sweets/hills/mallows of thistle
And the mare in her dark coat deepens/becomes/
The mare as her dark coat grows to leather;
the pig burps after milk in a trickle,
the starfaced dog, the cat uninured to weather . . ./
the starfaced dog, the cat who weeps at weather . . .
the starfaced dog, the cat sensitive to weather . . .
the starfaced dog, the cat sensitive to storms.
Coat broods and the mild pigs-milk is lapped at
and the mare in her dark coat—and the pig
who burps his meager milk—and then the dog
with starred brow—the cat sensitive to storms.
the donkey nibbles thistle and the horse
stands in its dark coat and the pig burps at
his meager milk and the dog and the cat
bare starry foreheads and bark at storms.
can fore-sense storms and the dog's forehead
bears a star.
the cat can fore-sense storms
the dog's forehead bears a star and the cat
can fore-sense storms
the donkey nibbles grass and the mare _____
in her dark coat and the pig's milk mustache
*
WELCOME
The sun has washed with white the farm too late /of late
Always for the stranger at last to come, /too late to come
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
Stunned if the stranger should finally come
But he whose roots were /force was /never here at home
May not even blink as he nears its gates—
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
*
So their response to him will be the same
It has been for ever before he came.
It has been ever since before he came.
These animals' response/answer to him will be
The same it has been since antiquity./eternity.
So therefore/even their response to him will be
So the only response to him will be /must be
The same it has been since they left that sea.
The stark response to him will be
The stolid response to him will be
*
/the stranger of me to /that stranger of mine to come
Always for the stranger I am to come
/ never mine
Wearing a rubbish-bin's tophat/tin cover as crown,
Wearing a trash can's tin cover/ coverlid as crown,
He will know to enter/declare the scene his own,
Declaring again/in first-person Friends I am here. Where
in first-person Friends I am here. There where
Declaring Friends your Noah's here! Where
Loud prodigal: Friends I am here. But where
Mere prodigal:
Forked prodigal:
He will know to announce himself as man
The returning prodigal: I'm here! Where
Comeback prodigal: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal and proud: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal and loud: Friends I am here! Where
The prodigal pride: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal with pride: Friends I am here! Where
Pride and prodigal: Friends I am here! Where
Pride prodigal:
*
*
W. S. Merwin:
Welcome
On the farm in its full color
it is on a day of bright sunlight
that one awaits the stranger.
Dressed in fine black fabric
and wearing a top hat
he will push the gate open
saying friends here I am.
The donkey nibbling the blue thistle
the mare in her dark gown
the pig drinking sour milk
the dog with the starred forehead
the cat who can sense a storm
before him will be the same
as in hard Antiquity.
*
by Stephen Romer:
Welcome
In the freshly whitewashed farm
it is a sunny day
to be waiting for the stranger.
Clad in thin black cloth
and wearing a top hat
he will push the gate
and say friends here I am.
The donkey grazing on blue thistle
the mare with a dark coat
the pig drinking thin milk
the dog with the starred forehead
the cat sensitive to storms
will be the same before him
as in hard Antiquity.
*
*
Here's Stephen Romer on Follain:
Follain catches the instant and preserves it in aspic, or behind glass that is absolutely transparent: the speaker casts no shadow on his poems, which are rigourly impersonal in presentation—not once does Follain use the personal pronoun 'je', preferring always the neutral 'on'. . . . Perhaps no other poet of the century can suggest, with equal economy, such vertiginous and often desolating temporal perspectives. Follain is also a crucial figure in providing a viable alternative to Surrealism, which he claimed to 'admire' but knew to be inimical to his own genius. . . . By reasserting the possibility of a poetry anchored in the world, and by inventing a new type of lyric poem, scoured of sentimentality and subjectivity, Jean Follain may prove, indeed, to be the major influence on the best [French] poets of the latter part of the century. . . .
(quoted from pages xxxiii/xxxiv of Romer's introduction to 20th-Century French Poems)
***
some of the worksheets from my transversion of a Follain poem, with a brief preface:
*
. . . . from Clive Wilmer's review (TLS June 1/07) of the new Ted Hughes compilation Selected Translations. . . . :
"Daniel Weissbort, who edited this selection, tells the story of Hughes taking another poet's translation of a work by the Hungarian Ferenc Juhasz and, without any knowledge of the original language and no Hungarian speaker to advise him, turning that version into a thrilling poem that drives the existing versions off the map."
*
Like Hughes in the case of Juhasz, my transversions are based not on the original, but on translations. . . .
But of course my parlor pastiches will hardly "drive the existing versions off the map." Nor is that their aim, really . . . they're more like exercises, as painters and composers will often attempt "variations on" . . .
*
In the case of this poem "by" Jean Follain, I have worked from translations by Merwin and Romer (they are appended here below my drafts). I'm assuming both their versions are accurate literal renderings of the original's content. Reading them, you can see what I've changed or added, in particular how I've "put back in" references to the biblical characters Adam and Noah, which Follain carefully left out.
It may seem odd that I've taken a poem which is not rhymed even in the original French version (I don't have the Follain text, but based on every poem of his I've ever seen I'm confident this one is similarly not end-rhymed)—why have I taken a vers libre and done this to it. But his poems are often sort of sonnety in their way. Stephen Romer writes: "[Follain's] poems, very rarely more than fifteen lines or so in length, are vignettes . . . " This is from the Introduction to 20th-Century French Poems (Faber, 2002) edited by Romer (see below for more Romer-on-Follain). That "fifteen lines" phrase struck me, and I suddenly wondered if the typical Follain could be read as a sonnet in subterfuge, and if so why not try doing a transversion in that mode . . .
As a further incentive, I worked to make each line decasyllabic.
*
Note: the drafts appear here in reverse, sort of, with the most recent ones above the earlier . . .
*
THE RETURN (after Follain: from Merwin/Romer)
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
in ways for the stranger who's late to come,
but he whose force was never sure of home
may not even pause when faced with its gates.
Clothed wholly in the mendicant's threadbare,
his headwear the tin lid of a trashcan,
he will know to announce himself as man
the prodigal: Hey guys it's me! But where
the mule gnaws roots and the mare's coat burrs dark
and the pig guards the last milk it laps at,—
where the dog has a starred brow and the cat
can augur storms, they have formed their own ark.
Unyielding the response to him must be;
the same it has been since edenity.
*
*
Perhaps for the stranger who's late to come,
It seems for the stranger
At times for the stranger
In ways for the stranger who's late to come,
Ostensibly the stranger late to come,
The one whose force was never sure of home,
Who may not even blink before its gates—
Will he know to announce himself as man
He will dare to announce himself as man
Will he dare to
May not even wince/smirk as he nears its gates—
May not even wince to approach its gates
May not even pause to approach its gates
May not even wink or pause at its gates
May not even pause or blink at its gates
May not even blink at breaching its gates
May not even blink as he gains its gates
as he goals its gates
entering passing
May nonchalant pose before its gates
May strike a nonchalance before its gates
May not even blink when faced with its gates
May not even blink as he nears its gates
May not even blanch when faced with its fates
May not even care when faced with its gates
*
the mule grubs for food, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule mulls root-cud,
the mule cuds up roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
thorn-roots/ weed-roots / wheatshoots /
the mule grazes grass /
the mule drools cudstuff,
the donkey drools cud,
the mules grubs for / spuds for grub
the mule digs / probes / roots for fodder /
the mule gnaws barley, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps up roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps root-cud, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps herb-cud, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule noses roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule noses herbs, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule sniffs herbage, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule gnaws roots and the mare's coat grows dark,
the pig guards the meager milk it laps at,—
the pig guards the milkcurd it laps at,—
where the pig guards the weak milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the bare milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the meek milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the mild milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the last milk it laps at
The mule chews herbs and the mare in her dark
Coat broods, where a meager milk goes lapped at,—
Where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
Can foretell storms, they have formed their own ark.
can augur storms, they have made their own ark
they have cast their own ark.
they have borne their own ark.
where the dog bears a starred brow and the cat
can foretell storms, they have found their own ark.
the mule gnaws herbs and the mare's coat grows dark—
where the pig guards the meager milk it laps at—
where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
where the dog has a starred brow and the cat
can foretell storms—they have formed their own ark.
the mule gnaws grass and the mare in her dark
coat broods and the pig slurps the milk it sips at—
the dog's forehead bears a star and the cat
can fore-sense storms—this farm is like an ark.
coat nods and the pig smears the milk it laps at;
coat broods and the pig laps at a milkmat
coat broods and the pig licks at lumps of milkfat
the mule gnaws herbs and the mare in her dark
coat broods and the pig swigs curds of milkfat—The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
can foretell storms: they have formed their own ark.
the pig laps up a milklet;
the pig laps a milk tricklet
the pig drinks at a thin spigot
coat broods and the pig licks a butterpat
the pig drinks thin its milkfat
Coat broods a meager milk goes lapped at,—
Coat broods and a meager milk is lapped at:
Coat broods and a meager milk gets lapped at;
Coat broods and a meager cream goes lapped at;
where the pig finds meager milk to mouth at
where the pig looks for meager milk to lap at
where the pig pursues a meager milk to lap at—
where the pig finds/has a meager milk to slurp at/splurge at
to lunge at/ to surge at/gush at / gnash at / nosh at/ gorge at
where the pig roots a/roots for meager milk to lap at—
where the pig has a meager milk to nose at—
where the pig roots out meager milk to lap at—
where the pig drools for meager milk to lap at—
where the pig hogs the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig guards the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig hunches over
where the pig hoards the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig defends the meager milk it laps at—
the pig is afraid someone will steal the meager milk it laps at—
the pig is jealous /cautious/ wary/
*
The donkey nibbles through sweets/hills/mallows of thistle
And the mare in her dark coat deepens/becomes/
The mare as her dark coat grows to leather;
the pig burps after milk in a trickle,
the starfaced dog, the cat uninured to weather . . ./
the starfaced dog, the cat who weeps at weather . . .
the starfaced dog, the cat sensitive to weather . . .
the starfaced dog, the cat sensitive to storms.
Coat broods and the mild pigs-milk is lapped at
and the mare in her dark coat—and the pig
who burps his meager milk—and then the dog
with starred brow—the cat sensitive to storms.
the donkey nibbles thistle and the horse
stands in its dark coat and the pig burps at
his meager milk and the dog and the cat
bare starry foreheads and bark at storms.
can fore-sense storms and the dog's forehead
bears a star.
the cat can fore-sense storms
the dog's forehead bears a star and the cat
can fore-sense storms
the donkey nibbles grass and the mare _____
in her dark coat and the pig's milk mustache
*
WELCOME
The sun has washed with white the farm too late /of late
Always for the stranger at last to come, /too late to come
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
Stunned if the stranger should finally come
But he whose roots were /force was /never here at home
May not even blink as he nears its gates—
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
*
So their response to him will be the same
It has been for ever before he came.
It has been ever since before he came.
These animals' response/answer to him will be
The same it has been since antiquity./eternity.
So therefore/even their response to him will be
So the only response to him will be /must be
The same it has been since they left that sea.
The stark response to him will be
The stolid response to him will be
*
/the stranger of me to /that stranger of mine to come
Always for the stranger I am to come
/ never mine
Wearing a rubbish-bin's tophat/tin cover as crown,
Wearing a trash can's tin cover/ coverlid as crown,
He will know to enter/declare the scene his own,
Declaring again/in first-person Friends I am here. Where
in first-person Friends I am here. There where
Declaring Friends your Noah's here! Where
Loud prodigal: Friends I am here. But where
Mere prodigal:
Forked prodigal:
He will know to announce himself as man
The returning prodigal: I'm here! Where
Comeback prodigal: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal and proud: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal and loud: Friends I am here! Where
The prodigal pride: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal with pride: Friends I am here! Where
Pride and prodigal: Friends I am here! Where
Pride prodigal:
/
THE RETURN (after Follain: from Merwin/Romer)
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
in ways for the stranger who's late to come,
but he whose force was never sure of home
may not even pause when faced with its gates.
Clothed wholly in the mendicant's threadbare,
his headwear the tin lid of a trashcan,
he will know to announce himself as man
the prodigal: Friends I am here. But where
the mule gnaws roots and the mare's coat burrs dark
and the pig guards the last milk it laps at,—
where the dog has a starred brow and the cat
can augur storms, they have formed their own ark.
Unyielding the response to him must be;
the same it has been since edenity.
*
*
Perhaps for the stranger who's late to come,
It seems for the stranger
At times for the stranger
In ways for the stranger who's late to come,
Ostensibly the stranger late to come,
The one whose force was never sure of home,
Who may not even blink before its gates—
Will he know to announce himself as man
He will dare to announce himself as man
Will he dare to
May not even wince/smirk as he nears its gates—
May not even wince to approach its gates
May not even pause to approach its gates
May not even wink or pause at its gates
May not even pause or blink at its gates
May not even blink at breaching its gates
May not even blink as he gains its gates
as he goals its gates
entering passing
May nonchalant pose before its gates
May strike a nonchalance before its gates
May not even blink when faced with its gates
May not even blink as he nears its gates
May not even blanch when faced with its fates
May not even care when faced with its gates
*
the mule grubs for food, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule mulls root-cud,
the mule cuds up roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
thorn-roots/ weed-roots / wheatshoots /
the mule grazes grass /
the mule drools cudstuff,
the donkey drools cud,
the mules grubs for / spuds for grub
the mule digs / probes / roots for fodder /
the mule gnaws barley, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps up roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps root-cud, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule chomps herb-cud, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule noses roots, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule noses herbs, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule sniffs herbage, the mare's coat burrs dark
the mule gnaws roots and the mare's coat grows dark,
the pig guards the meager milk it laps at,—
the pig guards the milkcurd it laps at,—
where the pig guards the weak milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the bare milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the meek milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the mild milk it laps at,—
where the pig guards the last milk it laps at
The mule chews herbs and the mare in her dark
Coat broods, where a meager milk goes lapped at,—
Where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
Can foretell storms, they have formed their own ark.
can augur storms, they have made their own ark
they have cast their own ark.
they have borne their own ark.
where the dog bears a starred brow and the cat
can foretell storms, they have found their own ark.
the mule gnaws herbs and the mare's coat grows dark—
where the pig guards the meager milk it laps at—
where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
where the dog has a starred brow and the cat
can foretell storms—they have formed their own ark.
the mule gnaws grass and the mare in her dark
coat broods and the pig slurps the milk it sips at—
the dog's forehead bears a star and the cat
can fore-sense storms—this farm is like an ark.
coat nods and the pig smears the milk it laps at;
coat broods and the pig laps at a milkmat
coat broods and the pig licks at lumps of milkfat
the mule gnaws herbs and the mare in her dark
coat broods and the pig swigs curds of milkfat—The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
where the dog's brow bears a star and the cat
can foretell storms: they have formed their own ark.
the pig laps up a milklet;
the pig laps a milk tricklet
the pig drinks at a thin spigot
coat broods and the pig licks a butterpat
the pig drinks thin its milkfat
Coat broods a meager milk goes lapped at,—
Coat broods and a meager milk is lapped at:
Coat broods and a meager milk gets lapped at;
Coat broods and a meager cream goes lapped at;
where the pig finds meager milk to mouth at
where the pig looks for meager milk to lap at
where the pig pursues a meager milk to lap at—
where the pig finds/has a meager milk to slurp at/splurge at
to lunge at/ to surge at/gush at / gnash at / nosh at/ gorge at
where the pig roots a/roots for meager milk to lap at—
where the pig has a meager milk to nose at—
where the pig roots out meager milk to lap at—
where the pig drools for meager milk to lap at—
where the pig hogs the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig guards the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig hunches over
where the pig hoards the meager milk it laps at—
where the pig defends the meager milk it laps at—
the pig is afraid someone will steal the meager milk it laps at—
the pig is jealous /cautious/ wary/
*
The donkey nibbles through sweets/hills/mallows of thistle
And the mare in her dark coat deepens/becomes/
The mare as her dark coat grows to leather;
the pig burps after milk in a trickle,
the starfaced dog, the cat uninured to weather . . ./
the starfaced dog, the cat who weeps at weather . . .
the starfaced dog, the cat sensitive to weather . . .
the starfaced dog, the cat sensitive to storms.
Coat broods and the mild pigs-milk is lapped at
and the mare in her dark coat—and the pig
who burps his meager milk—and then the dog
with starred brow—the cat sensitive to storms.
the donkey nibbles thistle and the horse
stands in its dark coat and the pig burps at
his meager milk and the dog and the cat
bare starry foreheads and bark at storms.
can fore-sense storms and the dog's forehead
bears a star.
the cat can fore-sense storms
the dog's forehead bears a star and the cat
can fore-sense storms
the donkey nibbles grass and the mare _____
in her dark coat and the pig's milk mustache
*
WELCOME
The sun has washed with white the farm too late /of late
Always for the stranger at last to come, /too late to come
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
Stunned if the stranger should finally come
But he whose roots were /force was /never here at home
May not even blink as he nears its gates—
The sun has washed with white the farm that waits
Stunned for the stranger to finally come
*
So their response to him will be the same
It has been for ever before he came.
It has been ever since before he came.
These animals' response/answer to him will be
The same it has been since antiquity./eternity.
So therefore/even their response to him will be
So the only response to him will be /must be
The same it has been since they left that sea.
The stark response to him will be
The stolid response to him will be
*
/the stranger of me to /that stranger of mine to come
Always for the stranger I am to come
/ never mine
Wearing a rubbish-bin's tophat/tin cover as crown,
Wearing a trash can's tin cover/ coverlid as crown,
He will know to enter/declare the scene his own,
Declaring again/in first-person Friends I am here. Where
in first-person Friends I am here. There where
Declaring Friends your Noah's here! Where
Loud prodigal: Friends I am here. But where
Mere prodigal:
Forked prodigal:
He will know to announce himself as man
The returning prodigal: I'm here! Where
Comeback prodigal: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal and proud: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal and loud: Friends I am here! Where
The prodigal pride: Friends I am here! Where
Prodigal with pride: Friends I am here! Where
Pride and prodigal: Friends I am here! Where
Pride prodigal:
*
*
W. S. Merwin:
Welcome
On the farm in its full color
it is on a day of bright sunlight
that one awaits the stranger.
Dressed in fine black fabric
and wearing a top hat
he will push the gate open
saying friends here I am.
The donkey nibbling the blue thistle
the mare in her dark gown
the pig drinking sour milk
the dog with the starred forehead
the cat who can sense a storm
before him will be the same
as in hard Antiquity.
*
by Stephen Romer:
Welcome
In the freshly whitewashed farm
it is a sunny day
to be waiting for the stranger.
Clad in thin black cloth
and wearing a top hat
he will push the gate
and say friends here I am.
The donkey grazing on blue thistle
the mare with a dark coat
the pig drinking thin milk
the dog with the starred forehead
the cat sensitive to storms
will be the same before him
as in hard Antiquity.
*
*
Here's Stephen Romer on Follain:
Follain catches the instant and preserves it in aspic, or behind glass that is absolutely transparent: the speaker casts no shadow on his poems, which are rigourly impersonal in presentation—not once does Follain use the personal pronoun 'je', preferring always the neutral 'on'. . . . Perhaps no other poet of the century can suggest, with equal economy, such vertiginous and often desolating temporal perspectives. Follain is also a crucial figure in providing a viable alternative to Surrealism, which he claimed to 'admire' but knew to be inimical to his own genius. . . . By reasserting the possibility of a poetry anchored in the world, and by inventing a new type of lyric poem, scoured of sentimentality and subjectivity, Jean Follain may prove, indeed, to be the major influence on the best [French] poets of the latter part of the century. . . .
(quoted from pages xxxiii/xxxiv of Romer's introduction to 20th-Century French Poems)
***
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