(no subject)

[amberdawnpullin.livejournal.com]

Dead

I was the moon.
A shadow hid me
and I knew what it meant
not to be at all.
The moon in eclipse is sad
and sinless.
There is no passion in her plight.
Cold, unlighted,
moving in trance,
she comes to her station
or passes again to her place;
uncovers her loneliness:
eyeless behind no eyelids
has neither sleeping nor waking,
no body, parts, nor passions,
no loving, perceiving,
having, nor being;
moves only in a wayless night;
and drifting, as a ship without direction,
sinks to a forgotten depth,
among weeds,
among stones.

- Rhoda Coghill

The Yellow Dot

[black-dawning.livejournal.com]

God does what she wants. She has very large
Tractors. She lives at night in the sewing room
Doing stitchery. Then chunks of land at mid-
Sea disappear. The husband knows that his wife
Is still breathing. God has arranged the open
Grave. That grave is not what we want,
But to God it’s a tiny hole, and he has
The needle, draws thread through it, and soon
A nice pattern appears. The husband cries,
“Don’t let her die!” But God says, “I
Need a yellow dot here, near the mailbox.”

The husband is angry. But the turbulent ocean
Is like a chicken scratching for seeds. It doesn’t
Mean anything, and the chicken’s claws will tear
A Rembrandt drawing if you put it down.

In memory of Jane Kenyon

-Robert Bly

Anonymous, Psalm 23 (Robert Alter translation)

[the-grynne.livejournal.com]

PSALM 23

A David psalm.
The Lord is my shepherd,
       I shall not want.
In grass meadows He makes me lie down,
       by quiet waters guides me.
My life He brings back.
       He leads me on pathways of justice
            for His name's sake.
Though I walk in the vale of death's shadow,
       I fear no harm,
            for You are with me.
Your rod and Your staff--
       it is they that console me.
You set out a table before me
       in the face of my foes.
You moisten my head with oil,
       my cup overflows.



From the Robert Alter translation of The Book of Psalms (2007).