Issue 125 |
Winter 2014-15

"I tried to save as many of them..."


Translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones

I tried to save as many of them as possible from the fire
of impressions, from the ship going to the bottom
of memory, where the guard is kept by electric
fishes. Most were asleep, so the dying lasted
as long as a breath. This was my battle for continuity,
but I scattered like a sentence on a child’s lips
laid over and over in the grave, like a firework
into a thousand sparks, which cannot be put together
not even as a damp squib. I go up to myself, freckle-faced
in a little captain’s uniform, up to a teenager with
an instant camera, hunting after ravens,
up to myself writing this poem. I see each of them,
but they fail to recognize me. Or maybe they’re simply
afraid of death.