Thursday, 04 May 2000 20:50

The Ever Open Door

Illustrated with photos by Josephine Sacabo

 

door2

There was something in him unfulfilled,
Something bigger than the shadow that he cast, 
Like a photo of something not quite in the frame,
A language that you've heard but never learned, 
Understood the music without knowing what it means.

door3 

All through his childhood there was a picture
His mother called the Ever-Open Door.
It was small - a faded watercolour of
A timber porch with a big stone arch,
Opening onto a path that curved away
Round rockery, shrubs, dry stone wall
Into an unseen landscape where
The distant sea was somehow near
And someone was always waiting.

door4

That was how it was when he first walked with her
The dark path waiting to be explored;
An unmapped territory already in his mind,
Flown over, a mile high, many times at night,
A half-glimpsed face that had woken him before,
Unknown, unrecovered, but familiar. 

door5

Peter Jukes 2000

 

 

Published in Original Poems
Friday, 22 September 2006 15:36

My Recurring Dream

 

 

 

I often have this strange and haunting dream
Of an unknown woman I love, who loves me back
And who is, at any moment, not quite the same
Nor entirely other, who loves and understands.

For only she can understand my heart,
Only she alone - oh my troubles disappear,
And the beads of sweat on my pale forehead
Only she alone replenishes with her tears.

Is she brunette, blonde or redhead? I don't know.
Her name? All I know is that it's soft and clear
Like those of loved ones who have long since gone.

Her gaze is like the gaze of a statue's head.
And in her tone - distant, calm, and sad - you can hear
The sound of beloved voices that are dead.

Translated by Peter Jukes from Paul Verlaine's Mon Reve Familier

My Recurring Dream (mp3)

Published in Translations