Snow
August 23rd, 2005 by gina.revillI know it’s the wrong time of year, and I’ve no idea what Saskia shoes are, but this is my favourite at the moment…
It began to snow at midnight. And certainly
the kitchen is the best place to sit,
even the kitchen of the sleepless.
It’s warm there, you cook yourself something, drink wine
and look out of the window at your friend eternity.
Why care whether birth and death are merely points
when life is not a straight line.
Why torment yourself eyeing the calendar
and wondering what is at stake.
Why confess you don’t have the money
to buy Saskia shoes?
And why brag
that you suffer more than others.
If there were no silence here
the snow would have dreamed it up.
You are alone.
Spare the gestures. Nothing for show.
Vladimir Holan
Translated from the Czech by Ian and Jarmila Milner
From Staying Alive: real poems for unreal times, edited by Neil Astley (Bloodaxe)
Comments
I love it.
And I love Staying Alive.
iggy
August 23rd, 2005
What a beautiful poem! I was truly moved by that. Oh to be able to write poetry like that…
Slim Cognito
August 24th, 2005
He is one of the most real poets I???ve read, I seems to have a similar logic ??? sometimes dark logic, as he did, my favorite is ‘the Lift’;
“We stepped into the lift. The two of us, alone
We looked at each other and that was all.
Two lives, a moment, fullness, bliss.
At the fifth floor she got out and I went on up
knowing I would never see her again,
that it was a meeting once and for all,
that if I followed her I would be like a dead man in her tracks
and that if she came back to me
it would only be from the other world.
Maybe an answer to your question;
Who is Saskia ??? not ???what Saskia shoes are???
Its actually a mystery about the man ??? some say she was a love child, born outside of side of his home country (Czech)
He married V??ra Pila??ov??, had a daughter Kate??ina. (born with Down disease).
In his later years, about the time he was nominated for a Nobel Prize, he supposedly fathered a daughter called Saskia. He died in poverty back in his home land ??? not able to care for her or know her.
Speculation surrounds a talented musician and song writer called Saskia Munroe. She was born in Utrecht, and immigrated to Canada in 1975
Check out her web site; http://www.saskia.ca/
Could this be true? Or just a another story?
peter (long winded)
August 25th, 2005
Whatever it is, it’s sounds amazing. I rush to check this website.
Iggy
August 26th, 2005
I never thought for a moment that Saskia was a person! Wow! Of course - I ought to have realised as it changes everything - before I thought of it as his or her desire to have label shoes - now it is a child. Everything is different.
Gina
August 26th, 2005
“Saskia shoes”?
You anti-capitalist intellectuals are hilarious.
Ernie Serna
September 1st, 2005
Anthony, no use using an alias.
You make odd assumptions about people you don’t know.
Gina
September 1st, 2005
So we should assume that Ernie Serna is a
non-intelectual capitalist?
Btw I think this saskia shoes are those big tenis raquet-styke shoes? with a net to walk over the snow… just guessing.
Iggy
September 2nd, 2005
My favourite, from Staying Alive:
HAPPINESS
by Raymond CARVER
So early it’s still almost dark out.
I’m near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren’t saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other’s arm.
It’s early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn’t enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.
Iggy
September 5th, 2005
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