Un brouillard sale et jaune inondait tout l'espace,
Je suivais, roidissant mes nerfs comme un héros
Et discutant avec mon âme déjà lasse,
Le faubourg secoué par les lourds tombereaux.
-Baudelaire
Those vague nights which crumple the heart
the auction of the soul within the art,
the harlot who faints at the sighs of her lover
misbegotten bodies strewn upon the ancient waterways.
the gray streaks in the red stone reeks
of untold tales, lovers who left and never returned,
gods on white horses, blades drawn in the blazing sun
and the poets who were born died scratching in the sand.
Her eyes meet upon the morning tram, in confusion,
the memories of the long days and cool evenings
the journeys to Samarkand, the thieves,
the holy men who wept along the trail,
the red sun that knew no pity and burned the bones
the rattle of the clacking track shatters everything
there is only the crackle of the paper and the foreign news,
the anamnesis of her lover and his spilling seed,
which postulate these new nights of sentient hands
ancient cold lands submerged in new delights.
Author notes
A dirty yellow fog inundated all space,
I was following, steeling my nerves like a hero,
Arid arguing with my already weary soul,
A squalid street shaken by the heavy dump-carts.
Image credit: http://s236.photobucket.com/albums/ff39/understatedsunshine/?start=20
In a list
A contest entry
- Petra -- that "rose-red city half as old as time" by ea.
600 points, ended August 28, 2007, 15 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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This poem
is like Petra itself
eerie, strange, beautiful, mysterious - of all time. It knows things we can't know
I've tried to comment on it for several days
but like the Water Goddess herself - the emotion the feeling, the place
evades me and yet I hear the newspaper ruffle and the static of foreign news
It is quite good. Regarding the photo, Her hand beckons and I don't like it ...but I can't not look.
Good luck in the contest.
Lisa
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spilling seed....
ohhhhh myyyyy....
you so naughtily delicious
this was fantastic
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What a great quote from Fleurs du Mal to introduce a poem of Petra with! I like the photo too; it seems like the perfect illustration to demonstrate how one would be beckoned into the "Siq". The tram indicates modernity yet there's a sense of timelessness about her pilgrimmage. The details of the landscape and the sense of geography complements the emotion. Nice.
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I have seen the gallery
I know why it carried you to Petra
carnation of stone holding secrets
of life-defeated sand
and rib sprung tragedy
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bloody hell this is good..
i will have to lie down now... ok
i will be back to read again
pheww... damn
bloody hell mistah
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