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Tuesday, December 28, 2010

And I am Simply here to Translate for Her: a good person, a child, a mother, mi Madre.



It is not I, Edith, who says it. --Don’t you see?
I am listening to the Ears speak. They do!
They too have a language, la langue du Verso
that Sings when it’s bid and answers on its knees
and whispers to the scarlet leaves plashed
along the face of Mother Earth. Only she knows
this verse. The Wanderer, Ovid, and Sor Juana,
her humblest servants and her devoutest.
Mother surpassed them all for what she gained
through the ravages of poverty. She earned
her freedom from greed's passions, mi Madre
who with harshest deprivations was pained.
She has so much to say that she murmurs,
and I'm only here to translate for her.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Perhaps we are the ears to hear
with purpose only to receive
while giving has intrinsic value
loving by listening is giving in itself
the earth speaks loudly in whispers so soft
that all five of the senses can miss the message
and burning desire is only misplaced messages
received but not recognized.
not recognized
not seen in the streets of a slum in India
not heard in the cry of the dying in Darfur
not felt in the lumps in a breast of a new mother
not sensed by the nose as the fires from e-waste rose from the safe disposal of success.

AmericanSappho said...

Thank you, what a Lovely line, "loving by listening is giving in itself."

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