Guillaume Apollinaire

The Loss of Grace

by Guillaume Apollinaire

get along, get along, rainbow

flutter your charmed colors

your exile de rigueur

putti of billowing scarves

the rainbow is outré

because we refuse to see

still, a banner flies

takes your turn in the breeze

— translated by Carol Peters

La Grâce Exilée

by Guillaume Apollinaire

Va-t-en va-t'en mon arc-en-ciel

Allez-vous-en couleurs charmantes

Cet exil t'est essentiel

Infante aux écharpes changeantes

Et l'arc-en-ciel est exilé

Puisqu'on exile qui l'irise

Mais un drapeau s'est envolé

Prendre ta place au vent de bise

 

Like Reindeer

virtual memory is memory freed up

by copying what’s in real memory

somewhere else, into the tundra, perhaps

where it remains, like anthrax, until

someone refers to the contents again

causing it to be returned to memory

the time required to transfer depends on

weather conditions — temperature

wind speed, precipitation — sometimes

all the reindeer die, sometimes the

recalled contents aren’t needed

after all, yet a boy dies before others

are vaccinated, the cost of reclamation

The Part That Sings

His head is

at the window. The only

part

      that sings.

— Amiri Baraka

a hummingbird

is not known for singing

it whirs

& blurs

at my window

at lavender, yarrow, sage

the beak, the tongue

tasting, feeding

I watch at the window

the red throat the steady mark

color a blur yet red, rufous

greater than glitter of

cobalt blue

emerald green

a hummingbird sings by being

by looking at me

at flowers

at the cat

mid-pounce

the moment when

bright colors

blurred motion

cease

now throat, head, wings 

are black

a hummingbird thing

a bit between cat’s jaws

a bit never strung to a bridle

an unbridled act

the beak

now a spear

a thorn

pierces my window

two heads at my window

one bird

one cat

no longer any part

that sings

Yesterday's Grass

I drowse while stones melt to moss

cool compost settles underwater

scatters clouds, a hole swallows my toes

someone starts to swim, someone looks back

it’s going on dark, soon I’m missing

soon enough my blood becomes soul