Chris Murray

“Anchises” by Blanaid Salkeld

May 10th, 2008

I wish he were the polar star in heaven,
or the little Pleiads seven,
And I would be the best astronomer
that ever watched for even.
I wish he were the sun from East to West-
even for me to see…what of the rest?-
I would not grudge their share, or mind…
or if he were the wind,
Then he would seek out sometimes , even me.
Or if he were a bird of any kind
I´d have his cry so fair
I´d lure him into any snare-
And then, Would I not free him?
But since nowhere I see him
Sometimes , In my sad breast,
I wish him dead, best.
A Saturday Woman Poet- Farrideh Hassanzadeh

May 3rd, 2008

THE FORGOTTEN UMBRELLA.

Upon the sound of rain
she took a pad of paper, a pen
and a few words about a youngness,
a loneliness
and a next day; then rushed out.

Her heart
just as an umbrella
left on the corner
and was forgotten.’

-by Farrideh Hassanzadeh

Last week I published Nelly Sachs in translation by Marianne Agren Mc Elroy. This week ‘The Forgotten Umbrella’, by Farrideh Hassanzadeh- translator and poet.
“Why Not?” by Farideh Hassanzadeh (Mostafavi)

May 2nd, 2008

Some day
I will find someone
and will tell him in silence
all the words I told others in my poems
and nobody got them.

Then I will let him
hold my head in his hands
and kiss my eyes
full of tears.
Full of the waters of dream
we will go to open the suitcase
-which we had never closed-
and will take all we need to despair
like a painkiller, a watch or a book of poems.

Then
We, he and me, will leave everything
everything except tomorrow
and each other.

– Farideh is an Iranian poet and translator.

There are many books on women writers from the sufi and Islamic traditions, mostly they are university and world religion type presses.

Sufism has touched contemporary western authors and philosophers. There are many access nodes on the internet to both ancient and modern Sufism, but best to enter ‘women’ poets into the search engine when looking for specific styles writing. There are literally thousands of sites on Sufism and Islam, so refine the search for poet(esses) (both ancient and modern)
from “Goblin Market” by Christina Rossetti

April 30th, 2008

The poem too long to publish here, so this is an excerpt,

Goblin Market.

Morning and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
“Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpicked cherries-
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab apples, dewberries,
Pine apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries…
All ripe together
In summer weather…
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy;
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the south,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye,
Come buy, come buy.:.

[of course the poem is about sex . It’s about other stuff too, forbidden fruits addiction, awareness and sacrifice. Laura succumbs and lizzie saves her. it’s a bit floaty-light and frothy for most tastes and consistently gets shelved for more serious stuff on similar themes… but is a good example of image making in pre-tv eras when people got their jollies from using their heads to visualise the licking scene…] Goblin market, by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

NOTE: for info on Dante Gabriel Rossetti‘s illustrations put, ‘and Lizzie veiled her blushes ‘ into any search engine… the pics caused quite a storm. The tradition of Courtly love and benign friendship was where she took her influence, in this case I would ignore Freudian analyses and go with Rossetti – her innocence is apparent- though the subconscious thread in creation always provides meat for academic thought]

“Comes Somebody” by Nelly Sachs.

April 26th, 2008

Comes Somebody

Comes somebody
from faraway
with a language
which perhaps locks
the sounds
with the neighing of the mare
or the chirping
of the little blackbird
or even as a screeching saw
that cuts up all that is near—

Comes somebody
from faraway
with the movements of a dog
or
perhaps a rat
and it is winter
so clothe him warmly-
it may be
that he has fire under his soles
(maybe he rode on a meteor)
so do not reproach him
if your perforated carpet screams—

A stranger always carries
his home in his arms
like an orphaned child
for which he perhaps
only seeks a grave.

© Nelly Sachs. 1891-1970. This translation is © Marianne Agren Mc Elroy’s family.

Image: The Decapitated Bird by Marianne Agren McElroy

Hildegard of Bingen

April 26th, 2008

I read the story of Hildegard many years before I had heard the music. I have published a link to the ‘irupert’ Hildegard site on the right column of links, and an image of ‘ O Vos Felices Radices’.

I first heard ‘The origin of Fire’ in Mayo at a point just South West of the Reek, which is the local name for Croagh Patrick, on those few days that led to the New Year in 2005 , just after the Aceh Tsunami (which very directly effected a close family member).

We seemed to have appalling percussive weather and had gone (possibly insanely) to a local beach near the base of the reek, we were literally blown out of the car.

On arriving home and being truely miserable, someone had put on a Hildegard disc and had lit candles. There was the smell of cooking.

The room filled with her song and the news emerging from Phuket was good, we did not know that there was another dying being accomplished and that the Hildegard was an oasis of calm and beauty in that horrible time. I would encourage everyone to read the depths of her visions, with the awareness that she spent her whole life in praise and composition.

The images most general to her (of her affliction) show a flame striking her forehead, and her scribe/confessor. It’s over 900 years since the compositions but the quality of contemporary interpretations are excellent– however it’s not something I would seek to listen to everyday.

Along with Julian of Norwich, Hildegard’s work is outstanding in times when education for women was limited to church and mostly the males did the vision thing. Julian’s use of Amirah– or it’s english language equivalent transcends the religious content, but the context of those lives provided the poetic tension and purity of expression.

‘The Ordo Virtum’ – (The play of Virtues) and ‘Symphonia Armonie Celestium Revealationum’ comprise the major works. These number 77 songs/antiphons. It is amazing how much you lose as you get a bit distant from education. In school we studied antiphon form and even sang a few – but most of the time we were too distracted by other things to pay much attention.

XLII- Sonnets From the Portuguese By Elizabeth Barrett-Browning

April 23rd, 2008

My future will not copy fair my past —
I wrote that once, and thinking at my side
My ministering life-angel justified
The word by his appealing look upcast
To the white throne of God, I turned at last,
And there, instead, saw thee, not unallied
To angels in thy soul! Then I, long tried
By natural ills, received the comfort fast,
While budding, at thy sight, my pilgrim’s staff
Gave out green leaves with morning dew impearled.
I seek no copy now of life’s first half:
Leave here the pages with long musing curled,
And write me my new future’s epigraph,
New angel mine, unhoped for in the world!

Of course Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s rhyme schemes drove the literary establishment cracked, the mention of her name for the Laureateship ( after the death of Wordsworth) was not truly in earnest but it was good discussions began…..

The Sonnets from the Portuguese were written to Robert and handed to him after their elopement , when he was in deep grief over a death in his family. 341 years after the name of Barret-Browning was mentioned in jest for the British Laureateship, the cycle of male-domination of these laurels was broken by Carol Ann Duffy in 2009 !

23/04/08

The Game. Page 123.

April 21st, 2008

‘To finish this chapter on Padre Eusebio, here is a small tale involving him. Like so many others, it is interesting only because of its protagonist; but having accepted that, I think it is a pleasant one. One day in the monastery Padre Pio and he were having a semi-serious argument.’
Rosalind/Ganymede

April 20th, 2008

‘Make the doors upon a woman’s wit
and it will out at the casement;
shut that and ’twill out at the keyhole;
stop that , ’twill fly with
the smoke out at the chimney’.

From ‘As you Like It‘

though many pals think that Bacon wrote Shakespeare or something like that .

Rosalind dresses as a boy in the forest of Arden. She, along with Portia from ‘The Merchant of Venice’ are beautifully written heroines.
Light Play in Celan

April 18th, 2008

‘Instants whose eyewink
no brightness sleeps.
Increate, in every place,
gather yourself,
stay.”

From ‘Fathomsuns and Benighted’. Trans, Ian Fairley. Carcanet.2001.

Goblin Market.

Comes Somebody