Today's prompt I found Inchjostru by Patrizia Gattaceca and then crafted my own poem based off of the homophonic translation of her poem. My poem ended up being a bit nonsensical, but it was fun and challenging to try this out.
INCHJOSTRU
Inchjostru
sangue nostru
Sognu
viaghju o segnu
Goccia à
goccia piuvana
Acqua per la
mio terra
Moru frombu
di mare
Sale u
vechju rimbeccu
Mughja
l’anticu mostru
Cù la
primiera notte
In chjostru
Avvene ch’ùn
vi pare
Più vi
risona l’eccu
Di u
silenziu à la sarra
A sperenza
ci và è
L’inchjostru
ci si sparghje
In
chjostru...
The Golden Finch
Flinch
through song, these instruments
can segregate
the violin in secrets.
Go see and go
see, peer into the vain
water of existence.
The musical terror
morns the front
of a marquee,
sailing over
the velvet red walk.
Magic antiques
the most
celebrated,
the prime note
in staccato,
in avenues
churning, we
part. Pews,
lined with
reason and accents,
divide the
silence of the savior
and the
sacrament of our bodies.
A finch flies
just through and chimes of strings
and changes the
beak, the mouth, the only instrument.
No comments:
Post a Comment