Friday, May 16, 2014

does even photography kill, like words, like thought?

The Bird

--- Bird, what are you after here, fluttering over my books?
Everything in this narrow room is foreign to you.

--- I know nothing of your room, and I am far from you.
I have never left my wood. I perch on the tree
Where I have hidden my nest, so reinterpret
Whatever you are seeing. Forget about a bird.

--- But I see you right here, your feet, your beak.

--- Doubtless you can span the distances.
If your eyes have found me, it's not my fault.

--- But you are here, since you answer.

--- I am answering the fear of man I always feel.
I feed my little ones and have no other diversion.
I guard them in secret in the dark of a tree
That I believed as dense as one of your walls.
Leave me on my branch and keep your words.
I fear your thought like the shot of a gun.

--- Calm the heart that hears me under your feathers.

--- Ah, what horror your feigned kindness was hiding!
You have killed me. I fall from my tree.

--- Well, I need to be alone, and even the gaze of a bird ....

--- But I was far away, in the deep heart of my wood!

-- Jules Supervielle
(my translation)

my gratitude to Roxana, who showed me this poem


  1. ah, you have killed me now!!!! :-)

    oh, i am speechless, that bird, the world swirling into being around her, like around an origin... and the poem!!! speechless, james, oh

  2. Photography, words, thoughts....give life and share beauty. What kills is inertia and no words or thoughts. Keep taking your life-affirming photos, James, and sharing poetry, too. To me, poetry is always life affirming, even if the subject is death. xo

  3. like a perfect painting or conversation with the sky; brilliant:)