Deprecated: mysql_connect(): The mysql extension is deprecated and will be removed in the future: use mysqli or PDO instead in /home/a26f9f83/public_html/articles/includes/config.php on line 159
Breathing-in, Minnesota [a poem: now in Spanish and English] > NetSparsh - Viral Content you Love & Share

Breathing-in, Minnesota [a poem: now in Spanish and English]

In early fall, in Minnesota, the rain falls, falls, In buckets, buckets and more buckets-: drops Likened to music from its many streams-land Of ten-thousand lakes; moistened gravel, gravel Everywhere?

Grandpa sits on the porch-daydreaming of, of Something, perhaps winter around the corner-; As the flies disappear, with the mosquitoes? Leaves will soon vanish, shadows will come early

Maybe he's thinking about summer: miles and miles And miles and miles of cornfields; his childhood now Long gone, he hums a hymn, a song; looking at the Metal-piped fence, he made, with three poles, on the Embankment, leading up the steps to the porch; It's worn-out like him.

The winds in Minnesota smell fresh, fresh from all The foliage, there's a lot of it. The eighty-three Year old man looks about, on his screened in Porch -fetches his pipe, lights it up, sucks in a Drag, pushes out some smoke: it drifts and drifts In the corners of the house

"Ah!" he says-proud of his life events-I say to Myself (I'm but ten): "No doubt He's already lived this?"

There are many stories he wants to tell, but first he Wants to smell the fresh air, the burning of autumn Leaves-He, never intended to have lived this long of A life, I believe, the old bear, came from Russia in 1916; He accepted life-adjusted to it

He hears the sparrows, their feathers flapping, faintly Soiled feathers, flapping, covering every inch of their Bodies- He notices frost on the nearby tree. It seems to Him, the sun is bouncing off of the ground, he gets bits And pieces of it on his face, it warms it, somehow, Thaws it out?

He's breathing in, frail like,-like reading Faulkner, slowly Does it, a ting uneasy. He never left Minnesota once, once He arrived back home from WWI (1918), "?no need to," he Says-he's happy? The fields are clean, animals in the barns; in the city, People getting haircuts-everything shutting down. Winter is now-it came last night, a Minnesota winter Is like no other. He just woke up, his bones chilled. The Wind blows, now it whistles, no foliage to stop its echoes.

"There are only a few left like me," he murmurs. The Flavor of winter he likes; warm biscuits, hot coffee, a Smoke from a pipe or cigar. Black branches that were Green a few months ago-: it's 10-below zero.

He sees the beauty of Minnesota in a glance here and There-It makes his brain swim with life; it is nature at its Finest!...

For Kathy [#800 8/14/05]

In Spanish Translated by: Nancy Penaloza

Respirando en, Minnesota [un poema]

Al comienzo del Otoño, en Minnesota, la lluvia cae, cae, En cubos, cubos Y más cubos-: gotas Comparadas con la música de sus muchos arroyuelos de Diez mil lagos; grava humedecida, grava por todas partes?

El abuelo se sienta sobre el pórtico, soñando despierto, de Algo, quizás el invierno rondando la esquina-; mientras las moscas desaparecen, con los mosquitos?Las hojas pronto desaparecerán, las sombras vendrán temprano

Tal vez él esta pensando en el verano: millas y millas y millas y millas de maizales; Su niñez ahora, hace mucho tiempo ida, él tararea un himno, una canción; mirando

La valla metálica-entubada, que él hizo, con tres postes, sobre el Terraplén, Conduciendo los pasos hacia el pórtico; Esto esta desgastado como él.

Los vientos en Minnesota huelen fresco, fresco por todo el follaje, hay Mucho de ello. El anciano de ochenta y tres años mira alrededor, sobre su protección En el Pórtico ? trayendo su pipa, encendiéndolo, aspiran una Rastra, eliminando el humo: esto va a la deriva y llega las esquinas de la casa

¡" Ah!" Él dice - orgulloso de los acontecimientos de su vida- me digo a mi mismo (pero yo sólo de diez): Sin duda "¿Él ya vivió esto?"

Hay muchas historias que él quiere contar, pero primero, él quiere oler el aire fresco, la combustión de Hojas de otoño - Él, nunca tuvo la intención de haber vivido esto a lo largo de una vida, Yo creo, el viejo oso, vino de Rusia en 1916; Él aceptó la vida- adaptado a ello.

Él oye los gorriones, su batir de plumas, plumas apenas Manchadas, batir, cubriendo cada pulgada de sus Cuerpos - Él nota la helada sobre el árbol cercano. Le parece, el sol esta saltando en el campo, él consigue añicos y pedazos de ello sobre su cara, esto calienta, de algún modo, Lo deshiela hacia fuera?

Él esta respirando, frágil como, - como leyendo Faulkner, despacio hace esto, un tintineo difícil. Él nunca dejó Minnesota alguna vez, una vez que Él llegó a casa de WWI (1918), "?ninguna necesidad", él dice - que el es feliz?. los campos son limpios, los animales en los graneros; en la ciudad, la gente que consigue cortes de pelo ? todo cerrando abajo. El invierno esta ahora ? llegó anoche, un invierno del Minnesota no Se parece a ningún otro. Justo cuando el se despertó, sus huesos enfriados. El Viento sopla, ahora esto silba, ningún follaje para parar sus ecos.

"Hay sólo unos pocos dejados como yo " murmura él. El Sabor del invierno le gusta; bizcochos calientes, café caliente, fumar de una pipa o cigarro. Las ramas negras que eran Verdes hace unos meses-: esto es 10 bajo cero.

Él ve la belleza de Minnesota en un vistazo aquí y Allí - Esto hace a su cerebro nadar con la vida; ¡esto es la naturaleza en su fineza!...

Para Kathy [*800 8/14/05]

You can see Dennis Siluk's many books at http://www.bn.com or http://www.amazon.com

In The News:

This RSS feed URL is deprecated, please update. New URLs can be found in the footers at https://news.google.com/news

Bustle

9 New Poetry Collections You Can Read On Your Lunch Break
Bustle
But poetry is, and always has been, more than simply transportive. Poetry is inherently political, emotional, and spiritual. Reading a poem is a meaningful act, a form of listening to other's voices and experiences that resonates far deeper than the page.


Bruce Cockburn riffs on poetry, politics and an unlikely hit song
Sacramento Bee
A rock musician whose music has incorporated elements of folk, jazz and world music, he's been hailed as one of contemporary music's most gifted guitarists, yet sings and plays in an understated way that complements lyrics that can be both poetic and ...


The Spokesman-Review

City of words: 'I am a Town' project brings poetry to Spokane streets
The Spokesman-Review
Last week, two longtime Spokane residents walking with their teenage grandchild in Kendall Yards were stopped in their tracks by this snatch of poetry spray-painted on the sidewalk under their feet: “Headlamps of the midnight train / search the rotting ...


KNAU Arizona Public Radio

Poetry Friday: A Telepoem From The High Desert
KNAU Arizona Public Radio
Poet Elizabeth Hellstern does. She's the inventor of the Telepoem Booth - a vintage rotary phone booth that recites poetry to you when you dial a number from the poem directory. Hellstern debuted the booth a couple of years ago in Flagstaff, but has ...


Arkansas Online

Poetry winner seeks humor amid the pain of failure, loss
Arkansas Online
FAYETTEVILLE -- City life in New York inspired the poetry of Jose Padua, he said. "I write a lot about failure, loss," said Padua, 60, now a self-described stay-at-home dad living in rural Virginia. His poetry seeks out something funny in the pain. "If ...


The Wire

Remembering Gopaldas Neeraj, Who Captured Popular Imagination With His Poetry and Lyrics
The Wire
A city once known for its many well-loved and well-regarded Urdu poets and prose stylists was also home to Gopaldas Neeraj. And save for an occasional glimpse at the Aligarh railway station or the (in)famous numaish, I had never had the occasion to ...
Doyen Of Hindi Poetry Gopal Das Neeraj Dies At 93NDTV
Doyen of Hindi Poetry Gopal Das Neeraj Passes Away at 93News18
Karwan guzar gaya... Doyen of Hindi poetry Gopal Das Neeraj no more, worlds of film and music shockedDaily News & Analysis
The Hindu -Financial Express -ThePrint
all 91 news articles »

Poetry and Jazz with Maine Poet Laureate Stuart Kestenbaum
Bangor Daily News
Join Maine Poet Laureate Stuart Kestenbaum along with composer and pianist Scott Cleveland for a night of poetry and jazz, accompanied by bassist John Gallagher, at the Jesup Memorial Library on Thursday, July 26 at 7 p.m. The night combines poetry ...


Out Magazine

'Milk and Hunty' Combines Drag & Poetry (What More Could You Want?)
Out Magazine
What happens when you combine poetry with drag? Magic. An established LGBTQ author and performer just released a hilarious parody book under a pseudonym ("Joan Keats") called Milk and Hunty—a drag-inspired version of Rupi Kaur's bestseller Milk ...


WLNS

"Poetry In The City" steps up tonight at Capitol
WLNS
LANSING, Mich (WLNS) - The spoken word will take over the steps of the Capitol today for the 12th annual Poetry in the City event. It features a wide variety of poetic styles with four main performers. You can join the fun and sign up to share your poetry.


6abc.com

Art of Aging: 102-year-old woman shares poetry with others
6abc.com
In today's Art of Aging, we meet a 102-year-old poet and mother, who found her creative self when her kids left home. Marion Stein loved raising her children and taking care of her home. Sot w Marion Stein, Paul's Run Retirement Community "Being a mom ...

Google News

Beautiful Dreamer, Stephen Foster, Americas First Folk Song Writer

"Beautiful Dreamer" was written by Stephen Foster just before his... Read More

Infected Ideologies [a Poetic Portrait]

the disease of extremism is infectious-; whoever cannot think of... Read More

Memoirs of a Wastelands Rim [a Poem: now in Spanish and English]

Memoirs of a Wasteland's RimIt still was light when she... Read More

Thank You To Our Soldiers And A Tribute To Old Glory And A Prayer For Peace

Thank youDedicated to soldiers and their loved onesFor those who... Read More

My hero, my best friend, my Grannio (a.k.a my Grandmother)

She raised me like I was her own daughter from... Read More

Elizabeth Barrett Browning: A Discussion of How Do I Love Thee?

"How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning was... Read More

Two Poems Written During Recovery

Since my wife and I are moving, or preparing to... Read More

Asha of Darfur [A poem with a commentary by the author]

Asha of DarfurCry, cry-oh little Darfur woman For your sister... Read More

Catherine Daly reviews Antidotes for an Alibi

Amy King Antidotes for an Alibi BlazeVox Books ISBN 0-9759227-5-0... Read More

Lucky...

You make me smile like I've seldom done before You... Read More

The Lull of Twilight [Over Mantaro Valley] In English and Spanish

Twilight, was now beginning. As forthe sun, it was down-down... Read More

Mechanical Poetry; Part Two

What do you do when you want to write poetry?... Read More

Ode To Quetzalcoatal [Now in Spanish and English]

Ode to QuetzalcóatlQuetzalcóatl the GreatNo one knew his true name,... Read More

Motiff

Have you ever experienced infatuation with someone you know is... Read More

The Power of Eating Disorders

I want to get closeI am afraid.Afraid of what... Read More

Two Poems and a Short Story

1)dying in the bar [sluggishly]yet, I would crawl too upto... Read More

Antidotes for an Alibi

Amy King's first full-length collection, Antidotes for an Alibi, insists... Read More

Biography of Charlotte Bronte

Charlotte Bronte (1816 ?1855) Novelist and Poet.Charlotte was the daughter... Read More

Become A Poet In Ten Minutes

Have you ever sat there staring at the paper, ready... Read More

Why I enjoy Writing?

During interviews and general conversations with the public,one of the... Read More

The Goat and the Rope [a Poem: in Spanish and English]

The Goat and the Ropewhere there were devils I saw... Read More

Its What She Didnt Say

When I hear your voice inside my head it makes... Read More

Africa - Wheres The Profit?

A poetic comment that just welled up inside my head... Read More

Caught in the Arms of ED

YOU MIGHT THINK I AM STRONGI THINK YOU GOT IT... Read More

Farewell to Lester Graybill

I never met a man, who could shake my hand,... Read More