who put on my shoes
Editor:
1
there look at those wild-strawberry leaves purring a little
cat between thorns where a tree shakes its swaying antlers
by skeletal islands dry-as-dust wind
swift cuts a tail into two points punt drifts
riverbanks to my right-as-rain roses on hairpin legs
toes with thoughts and tongue in cheek clacking
the buds burst out of their husks happy to be alive I am
a daybreak lilac when its bursting spray allows
and birch bark curls dance in wind
2
grass verges the edge of a field in marram grass peeled
gooseberries clover there leafage theft leaves its trees autumnal
a leggy horse runs in circles like a daft thing dances
through parched fields pulls out plough and root
drowns where boat strikes land with sail mast
along the path spotted woodpeckers wave for fourteen years
I wept come now come then stubbled morning
as we arrive at snowdrops lady’s mantle meadows
water green lilies near-white pearling earth
3
crazy about horse droppings and lilies birds dipping
in a lake where sunlight blaze and screeching wind consume earth
with rapidly scooped paper lightning-quick swept-up clouds
airy meadows white cut I came over light hills
and met with death who put on my shoes
in spring frost I walked off on bare feet
among evergreen pine groves through mudflats
waded through the tide to the sea bellying to my calves
remnants from ice aged wrinkled branch crackling
flower its buds letters bursting open seize the day
the night and endless waterways gleaming ribbons
through fields with nettles at my feet
4
that morning hoar frost so buds and buds the milky white sun
on roof tiles dancing rain along free ranging field path
caressed head and cheekbone olive branches
cradle ash tree branches then I leap with eiderdown out of bed
drink magnified water squamous dream snippets (
lost on air float down a path where coltsfoot hops
with trotting hoof prints I plant midnight feet
in the pale grey field covered with powdery snow
beside little duckweed boats adrift on the mire
5
with pomegranate leaves their scarlet hairs
I see loosestrife rooting through fields
weeds cuttings of horsetails a land full of may
moisten earth to sow spring ask mountains the time
not to be spun fine pale yellow plumed thistles not to come too close
pods float in ditches reflect white elderberry sprays
a smell wrapped in jasmine hats lost on air
speckled mossy green climb with daisy stalks
ladders along hair pupating into peacock butterflies
6
as if I can hear light fall through walls in a village
of trees reveals itself an entire road close by
blossoming I entrusted water lilies and lotus
blindly to water in blazing sunlight first tines
follow limbs driven by wind directions ships
of bark murmuring pebbles in the beck roll slowly
towards dune rumbling past hovels grief charmed early floored
marsh flowers of hand-shaped parted leaves
I weave starry wreaths calyxes to drink from
7
in knuckles little daggers of burning larch needles
always stab red staggered tortoiseshells springing where
hogweed grows beside pale birch bark bees zoom
the moon its antics see flagellates springing nightingale
then I eat belladonna slimy frogs legs hop
in curling beck between the script of tiny scots pines
bellowing sea joy billowing honey streams of cotton grass
bones of verge grass batter against a hill beacons
in the distance ships understand mirroring each other to shards
Translated by Donald Gardner for StAnza, Scotland's Poetry Festival, March 2012, with financial support from the Dutch Foundation for Literature, Amsterdam, The Netherlands. © 2012 Donald Gardner, Rozalie Hirs.