Thursday 3 December 2009

through the waters of the blind

they say that history repeats itself:
what should we do
with the old communist buildings
which we have grown to call
home
?



---


and if we had wanted to burn
them down in the rage
of our late autumn
and if we had wished for
the knife of day
to cut through them
like a seed tearing
through the flesh of time...

yet we stood there, weary
not even holding hands
and no one from the angelic orders
forced our mouths to open
and our flowers to turn silent
against the sun
we who got drunk on waiting
that darkened within us like wine
we who couldn't even remember
why our limbs were numb
and why we cried for words
like ripples through
the waters of the blind

yet we stood there, bewildered,
and failing to notice
that our mirrors, stubbornly
buried in the wormwood of memory
had started to outgrow
the shabby contours of living
that a forest had begun to move
towards the barren centre of our sleep
that we ourselves had come to hang
like giant globes of light
from within the dead body of time.





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54 comments:

  1. ooh, there's some lovely lines in there. i may have to reutrn you some landscapes in reply i think...!

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  2. Que série fantástica.
    Gosto muito destas fotografias.
    Reflexos de estados de alma.

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  3. Ah, e gostei particularmente daquelas a que chamo " Sonhos da Casa Amarela" ou será " Recordações da Casa Amarela"?

    Abraços

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  4. I can relate to this, it is the most coherent section of the piece, your work today feels like a stream of consciousness more than a story...

    "we who got drunk on waiting
    that darkened within us like wine
    we who couldn't even remember
    why our limbs were numb
    and why we cried for words
    like ripples through
    the waters of the blind"
    I get drunk on words...

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  5. .. only when people doesn't enough lessons..

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  6. third picture down - one of my all time favourites, beautiful doesn't come close.

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  7. Beautifully thought, wonderfully crafted. -Jayne

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  8. You tell stories with your photography unlike anyone else I can think of. There are times I don't even want to read the words but craft my own from the pictures, to let them flow over me and my imagination as it weaves its own story. Magnificent!

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  9. These could be easily your best pics!
    the poem is nearly perfect. this is one of your great achievements here.

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  10. i'm going to apologize in advance for the imposition, yet
    http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=Dadachvost#p/c/D258BFE2C728B42C/0/tiBTCBwQ5XQ

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  11. Roxana,
    J'adore cette série crépusculaire et aquatique.
    La tombée de la nuit ou le lever du soleil sont des moments magiques pour moi. En français, on dit "entre chien et loup"...
    L'eau...c'est note élément vital, notre matrice originelle.
    Je suis du signe des "Poissons" comme toi, alors je me sens complètement dans mon élément et me retrouve dans ces photos. J'ai également vécu toute mon enfance près d'une rivière de couleur verte. Le reflet d'un monde inversé (mon avatar), des touches de bleu et de vert (mes yeux pers), le côté obscur ...je m'y retrouve aussi un peu.
    Bises chère Roxana...
    K'line

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  12. did a comment go amiss? loving the words, loving the landscapes. in the last comment i said i still owed you some landscapes. i nearly took them today. if only i'd taken the camera! lol

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  13. third pic down is definitely one of my all time favourites, beautiful doesn't come close.

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  14. Πάντα ῥεῖ καὶ οὐδὲν μένει.

    (Everything flows and nothing stand still.)

    As one is able to step into flowing water as many times one wants, always finding the same: water - and yet always something new, as one won't be able to step twice into the same water, it is my honest hope that the change to come will provide new fresh water and hope.

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  15. yes, something was definitely amiss because i only got some of the comment notifications in my mail, and now (before finally going to bed) i had the idea of checking my dashboard, and when i saw 15 comments there, i couldn't believe my eyes - and of course imagined they were all spam - and indeed some of them were, there is a lot of spam going around these days, and then blogger behaving like this...

    thank you all!!!

    (i will reply later in more detail)

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  16. Szép fotók! Egy, kettő hasonlít az enyémre!:)))
    Futás a tolmácsodért, és gyere Te is moziba, d eizibe!:))))
    http://sonaj51.blogspot.com/

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  17. upon hearing the echoes, my Lorelei of color, i've returned to you.

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  18. I am stricken first, powerfully, by the music of this poem, by its organization of sound by means of “w,’ “m/n.” and “i” sounds, dancing through these sections like the flash of a secret message. The first section begins this dance with “burn … autumn … them … time” --- and it continues on through “weary … hands … mouths … sun … drunk … waiting … within … wine … remember … limbs … numb … why … words … waters … blind.” In the third section this motion of the dance trembles to a pause on “memory” (which is surely the key-word for the whole), but not before “bewildered,” “notice,” “mirrors” and “wormwood” --- the other key-word, a marker of bitterness and pain. And, in a larger gesture toward order, the three sections close on “time … blind … time” --- the “i/eye” is blinded in the midst of time… And none of this is coincidental, I think … this dance steps gracefully through the words that matter here. I don’t mean this was all planned consciously (thought maybe it was….). But this is what one means when one says a poet “has an ear.” You have a sublime and subtle ear for the sound and texture of language….

    And the photographs! I am lost in them…. Surely this creation of beauty is what pushes back against the crushing force of history? Surely these colors that now tremble inside the soul and redeem the unredeemable moment are a sort of healing for the blindness of history?

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  19. your photos, they always reach straight in, but this time more than any other, i am compelled to come back and again and again for the poem - totally blows me away! beautiful.

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  20. Roxana, I dropped to my knees, clasped my hands, and gasped, gasped like a fish out of the sweet water of life, gasped at the golden radiance of reflections in these "mirrors, stubbornly", these irrestible stubborn mirrors that reach out with powerful paralyzing colors of a mood that allows no retreat, no turning away, one falls into the reflecting pools of these stubbornly honest yet transformative mirrors, and one is falling, falling, falling with the echoes of your words on the wind, drunk while waiting, drunk while waiting to hit the hard ground of awakening, a moment that never comes when one has leapt from the floating bridge into the void, into the void where luminous lights reign like the aurora of the northern arctic skies...

    I'm sorry if I ramble and blather and drool like an old lunatic in an asylum, it cannot be helped when such electro-shocks are applied, and one flies over your cuckoo's nest into the wild blue yonder of beautifully hypnotzing lights...

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  21. L'eau, source de sagesse et de savoir ! Que ta proposition est bien belle et... pour une fois, j'allais dire, pleine d'optimisme avec tes dernières photos colorées !... Et pourtant, quel sujet bien triste et grave !...
    L'histoire ne se répète jamais, elle ne fait que continuer ! Disons que l'histoire de chacun ne se répète jamais ! La répétition ne tient qu'à celui qui veut faire s'éterniser les choses ! La chair du temps est bonne parfois à se laisser enivrer ! J'aime beucoup les mots qui sont exprimés ici... et je vais te dire Roxana, peut-être plus que les photos pour une fois ! Quel texte superbe, que de paraboles et d'images avec ces phrases qui résonnent comme des histoires ! Magnifique !
    Etre aveugle, c'est aussi un confort parfois ! ! ! Tu ne crois pas !

    Bises adorée Roxana...
    Je t'aime toujours autant...;-)
    Ciao bella !

    Mais, je reviendrais ! Ton texte et tes images me laissent sur la faim ! Il faut que je revienne déposer autre chose !...

    SMACK *

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  22. all of yours
    are
    breathlessly
    profound..
    and matured..

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  23. what gorgeous photos they are - so mysterious and evocative - thanks!

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  24. This poem has just struck my very soul. The photos and poem are very surrealistic with a huge message for us all. I hope we "hear" it.!

    I dropped by via Owen's blog. Glad I did.

    Blessings,

    Rhiannon

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  25. you know, r, i just read the words now..too dazzled by the pictures (okay, enough of this sucking up, it's doing my head in!).

    i mean, pretty darned good for your n th language.

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  26. I arrived here thanks to Owen of Magic lantern show - how happy I am that I followed the link he provided! Your photos have something magical about them. I'm putting your blog in my favourites so I can come back.

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  27. Back again ... can't stay away ....

    A little untitled poem by Roland Giguère that seems à propos. I offer it as a footnote to your much richer mirror of dreams and yearning:


    Nos yeux s'ouvrent aujourd'hui
    sur ce qui est nécessaire à l'éclair
    pour traverser la nuit

    nous nous sommes trop longtemps attardés
    à l'éclair même

    l'arbre qui dort rêve à ses racines

    la mémoire chante sur la plage noircie.

    *

    Our eyes open today
    on what the lightning needs
    to split the night

    we have lingered too long
    on the lightning itself

    the sleeping tree dreams of its roots

    memory sings on the darkened shore

    .

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  28. I am here visiting from Owen's blog. What wonderful words and photographs you have posted here. Much to love and explore. Many words and photographs to breathe in.

    Thank you for sharing your gifts with us.

    Christine

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  29. It seems that there are already some other Peters around; here is one more! I got here thanks to Owen and can well understand why he is so impressed by your blog, photos, texts... Amazing!

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  30. dearest, just to crystallize the meaning of your "and now...", in this instance, it's the Ilyenko film i wanted you to see (Lebedyne ozero-zona). I realize that Elegy of a Voyage is also featured there. The director of Lebedyne is also a cinematographer and is best known for shooting Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors. The script is fittingly written by Paradjanov and was shot where he was imprisoned. It was your last two posts that triggered this torrent within me. The brutal reality of the sledgehammer called communism permeates your work, your searing poetry; and, with visceral iconicity, Ilyenko's film.

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  31. some landscapes in return, swiss!!! :-)

    but which lines do you like?





    merc, my dear friend, i know what "holy" means in your heart, and i am so grateful...





    Adelino, thank you so much, i also loved both Vasa Amarela-titles :-)




    thank you Dianne, i am glad you liked that stanza.





    Peter, you change your pic between two comments :-) but do you think people ever learn their lesson?






    billoo, did i take your breath away? :-) finally!!!

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  32. waou waou waou !!!!
    ce blog !
    non je n'aboie pas d'habitude :-) c'est juste que je suis ....
    très belles photos, émouvantes, surprenantes laissant place à l'imaginaire total :-)
    belle nuit roxana

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  33. Your words are wonderous strung line by line. Then, there are images strung out in one long vertical. Both require such skill and heart to achieve. You are an amazingly gifted soul!

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  34. err..no, I was just commenting after climbing a flight of stairs..really must cut down on those cinnamon rolls you know. So, I was just saying I feel rather breathless nowadays. Sorry for the confusion.

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  35. Sorlil :-)
    (don't tell me that, i might send it to you as well :-)





    thank you, dear Jayne.





    Treé, you don't have to read the words, in fact i think if you make your own stories around the images, i'd rather prefer that... especially in your case, you write so beautifully...





    Kubla, you have overwhelmed me! i am not used to such unconditional praise from you. you really like the poem? ah, i am very happy. a very sincere thank you.

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  36. Prospero, imposition? you make me laugh :-)

    so i have failed the homework assignment since i have imagined you sent me to Sokurov - but not quite, because i had actually believed you recommended all the films on that page and i intended to see them all, in due time (i still intend to, of course, that channel is simply a gem). though the detail about the 90-minutes length confused me...

    oh, and Lorelei - as it happens i have a post on that, another face of your Lorelei of colours (i think nobody who studies german literature can overlook these great poems):

    http://roxanaghita.blogspot.com/2008/01/melanie.html

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  37. Chère K’line, maintenant tout s’explique, tu es poisson comme moi! :-)
    je comprends tout ce que tu dis, et si bien... mais moi je n’ai jamais vécu près de l’eau, c’est l’un de mes grands désirs, hélas... ah, l’eau – jamais je ne pourrai cesser d’en rêver...
    Merci de tout coeur pour cet univers partagé!

    Bises...






    Robert, und nach panta rei, das:

    „Alles geht, Alles kommt zurück; ewig rollt das Rad des Seins. Alles stirbt, Alles blüht wieder auf, ewig läuft das Jahr des Seins.
    Alles bricht, Alles wird neu gefügt; ewig baut sich das gleiche Haus des Seins. Alles scheidet, Alles grüsst sich wieder; ewig bleibt sich treu der Ring des Seins.
    In jedem Nu beginnt das Sein; um jedes Hier rollt sich die Kugel Dort. Die Mitte ist überall. Krumm ist der Pfad der Ewigkeit.“






    thank you, Főfüge! :-)

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  38. ah James - you take me so seriously as if i were a poet - and when a poet, and one that i so highly admire, does this to me, then how could i possible respond? i am... i don't know... i am so happy and humbled and grateful and shy and ashamed, yes - i don't think i could ever do justice to your generous readings of my little texts (as i am ashamed to write in english, but you are also guilty of that, you have encouraged me over time :-)


    but to your questions (only here i can try to answer, beyond a simple - and yet complete - gesture of silent gratitude): Surely this creation of beauty is what pushes back against the crushing force of history?

    i don't know. i hope, yet i am not sure.

    Surely these colors that now tremble inside the soul and redeem the unredeemable moment are a sort of healing for the blindness of history?

    yes, i am sure of this.

    thank you for Roland Giguère, i don't know him but i like the poem... is this your translation?

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  39. Manuela, reallyreally? wow! happy :-)



    SparkleMirror, thank you for coming by, i also love pottery and have learned a bit myself in Japan...





    Catherine, very nice of you to visit and tell me this, thank you...





    Rhiannon, your warm words have touched me... i am glad you weren't disappointed when coming here :-)

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  40. "seriously as if i were a poet" -- This text destroys the "as if." I'm sorry, if you were counting on the "as if" --that refuge is no longer available....

    "i don't know. i hope, yet i am not sure" --- Me, too. Yes.

    The translation is mine. I happened across the poem, and it immediately reminded me of your post (except I just now typed "your past" and had to correct it ...). I like the poem, too, though it is a lesser thing than yours.

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  41. thank you, Nathalie, i am very happy you found here something you like and look forward to see you again :-)





    Christine, you are very kind. i am grateful for your visit.





    Peter, another Peter, and happily welcome as well :-) i am glad you took the time to come here and let me know of your impression, i really appreciate it.

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  42. Owen, my dear friend!

    i don't know how to thank you for your immense kindness and generosity, for the words of praise you always find for the Bridge - and now you even posted a link to introduce it to your friend, i am overwhelmed and humbled...

    and even for this touching thought, that you would like to have a gallery to show my work one day - i am grateful beyond words...

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  43. Karine :-)
    merci beaucoup pour tes mots si gentils (et pour tes jolis wow wow woau woau woau :-), ca m'a fait bien rire!




    thank you Patricia, both for visiting and for taking the time to leave such kind words of appreciation...




    that's very nice of you to say so, Nadege...

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  44. On n'oublie jamais ceux qu'on aime !

    Amitiés...

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  45. mais Jeff, tu pourrais aussi penser que c’était mon intention de te laisser à la fin, vu que je n’ai pas encore fini de répondre à tous les commentaires :-)
    pourquoi choisir la variante la plus pessimiste, ce n’est pas ta nature telle que je la connais, toi qui es toujours si plein de vie, d’exubérance – par contre, je vois très bien Roxana capable de penser une chose pareille, mais peut-être que le sombre Pont t’a contaminé avec ses mélancolies depuis que tu te promènes si souvent là-dessus :-) maudits ponts, on devrait interdire aux gens de s’y ballader ! (à propos, tu connais le film 'La fille sur le pont' ? je l’aime beaucoup )

    bon, pour te répondre sérieusement, je n’avais pas du tout oublié les commentaires auxquels je dois encore répondre, mais comme cette fois-ci il y en avait beaucoup plus que d’habitude grâce à la gentillesse d’Owen, je me suis vu obligée de répondre pendant plusieurs jours et même de poster avant de finir avec les réponses... et je t’ai laissé exprès à la fin car pour toi je dois écrire beaucoup en français et il me faut ouvrir le Word pour pouvoir avoir accès aux accents, c’est plus compliqué. voilà voilà, es-tu maintenant satisfait ? non ? tu fais encore la moue ? :-P

    bises...

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  46. billoo, you should really cut on those cinnamon rolls, i mean, instead growing a big belly you should better think of all those hungry pigeons out there and go feed them in the park - assuming that you've got pigeons in Lahore, that is :-P
    (besides you risk giving me a heart attack using such words of - false - praise, would you want that?)

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  47. James, i was indeed counting on the "as if", i am always counting on my "as if", "perhaps", "might be" :-)

    yet i am very stubborn and also skillful at building rapidly new refuges, just wait and see :-)

    and i am looking forward for new translations on the Klage-Welt...

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  48. Well, no pigeons in Lahore, i'm afraid..well, actually three, but I ate one of them, so now two.

    But why should I want you to suffer from heart failure when so many suffer from a failure of heart already?
    As the poet (the non-googleable poet) said:

    death from heart failure
    so to say death by death.

    but why do you talk about death in the morning? Could it be that there is a bit of the bridge in the black sun?

    You wish!:-)

    But can there be false praise for a true 'object' (to use your convoluted academic word)? wouldn't the medieval soul say that the word meets the image, the idea meets beauty (you're pictures, of course!)

    Good morning, roxana.

    :-)

    b.

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  49. A beautiful blend of words and images with powerful emotional impact. Thank you Merc for passing on the site.

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  50. thank you for visiting, JK Russ, i am glad you are not disappointed! and your New-Zealand journal is so captivating, i just want to travel and come there :-)

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