Okay, I'll admit it! I couldn't keep away! I'm totally addicted to Viggo! So, the closing of this page was actually just a hiatus. I did try to quit this page but Viggo keeps posting such interesting poetry, articles and personal snippets on his Perceval Press site that I need a place to spout off my opinions about it all! And this page has become that place for me! This page is global but so little known that only a dozen or so others on this planet even know about it and only a scant few bother to visit regularly, so it's not like broadcasting on a popular Viggo forum or anything. It's public with the illusion of privacy.
Now, on to the meat of this post: Viggo's latest poetry posts! First I have to say, it's really great to see non-San Lorenzo fan-boy related posts for once yet again on Perceval Press! I realize sports are an important part of many men's lives and modern men, lacking hunting parties and battles, need sports as a substitute to make them feel manly but frankly, as a woman, most sports make me feel sick! ;-) So, it's nice to see something different from Viggo "once in a while..."
And it's really great to see him so post-happy with poetry again! Although reading what he posted makes me wonder yet again who he posts these for or if there is some inherent message within the poems he wants to pass on to others. Perhaps I just over-think things though! It wouldn't be the first time! Anyway, here is the poetry Viggo recently posted for all our eyes to feast upon:
HAPPY NEW YEAR
Mira, no pido mucho,
solamente tu mano, tenerla
como un sapito que duerme así contento.
Necesito esa puerta que me dabas
para entrar a tu mundo, ese trocito
de azúcar verde, de redondo alegre.
¿No me prestás tu mano en esta noche
de fìn de año de lechuzas roncas?
No puedes, por razones técnicas.
Entonces la tramo en el aire, urdiendo cada dedo,
el durazno sedoso de la palma
y el dorso, ese país de azules árboles.
Asì la tomo y la sostengo,
como si de ello dependiera
muchísimo del mundo,
la sucesión de las cuatro estaciones,
el canto de los gallos, el amor de los hombres.
—Julio Cortázar
I used
Google Translate on this and made some sense out of it. Sadly, most of the Spanish I know I learned from Dora the Explorer and her cousin Diego! I've learned more from watching those shows with my daughter than I ever did from the two years of high school Spanish I took!
This poem seems to be a love poem but the few untranslated words make me unsure. What I could make sense of was lovely though.
Walkers with the Dawn
Being walkers with the dawn and morning,
Walkers with the sun and morning,
We are not afraid of night,
Nor days of gloom,
Nor darkness--
Being walkers with the sun and morning.
—Langston Hughes
This piece is just beautiful. It reminds me of something I wrote eight years ago: "As the darkness melted off the mountain sides, it was replaced by the warm golden-green of morning - filling me with exuberant joy to be alive on this miraculous planet." Not quite the same sentiment but for me they both pull up a similar feeling within.
Earlier Viggo also posted these poems by the Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska. Thankfully they are both already translated into English for us lowly monolingualists! The first poem about the soul fills my soul with joy, the second with sadness. What else can I say?
A Few Words On The Soul
We have a soul at times.
No one's got it non-stop,
for keeps.
Day after day,
year after year
may pass without it.
Sometimes
it will settle for awhile
only in childhood's fears and raptures.
Sometimes only in astonishment
that we are old.
It rarely lends a hand
in uphill tasks,
like moving furniture,
or lifting luggage,
or going miles in shoes that pinch.
It usually steps out
whenever meat needs chopping
or forms have to be filled.
For every thousand conversations
it participates in one,
if even that,
since it prefers silence.
Just when our body goes from ache to pain,
it slips off-duty.
It's picky:
it doesn't like seeing us in crowds,
our hustling for a dubious advantage
and creaky machinations make it sick.
Joy and sorrow
aren't two different feelings for it.
It attends us
only when the two are joined.
We can count on it
when we're sure of nothing
and curious about everything.
Among the material objects
it favors clocks with pendulums
and mirrors, which keep on working
even when no one is looking.
It won't say where it comes from
or when it's taking off again,
though it's clearly expecting such questions.
We need it
but apparently
it needs us
for some reason too.
—Wislawa Szymborska
(translated from the Polish by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh)
Some People
by Wislawa Szymborska
Translated by Joanna Trzeciak
Some people fleeing some other people.
In some country under the sun
and some clouds.
They leave behind some of their everything,
sown fields, some chickens, dogs,
mirrors in which fire now sees itself reflected.
On their backs are pitchers and bundles,
the emptier, the heavier from one day to the next.
Taking place stealthily is somebody's stopping,
and in the commotion, somebody's bread somebody's snatching
and a dead child somebody's shaking.
In front of them some still not the right way,
nor the bridge that should be
over a river strangely rosy.
Around them, some gunfire, at times closer, at times farther off,
and, above, a plane circling somewhat.
Some invisibility would come in handy,
some grayish stoniness,
or even better, non-being
for a little or a long while.
Something else is yet to happen, only where and what?
Someone will head toward them, only when and who,
in how many shapes and with what intentions?
Given a choice,
maybe he will choose not to be the enemy and
leave them with some kind of life.
And Viggo posted a little bit himself. I love how he sends wishes out to all creatures! Could this guy get more lovable? Why hasn't he been grabbed up by some woman already? Or is he being a hold-out for some reason and if so, why so? Aah well, here's hoping such wishes as these do come true:
"Here's wishing all creatures on this earth luck, love, and good health in winter and in summer as we go into what most people like to call 2009. Of course, it is not possible for every being to live lucky and healthy lives all at once, but we can be loving. There are choices we can make, from moment to moment. We can join ourselves and others, choose to see the ties that unite us, feed us, make our lives what they actually are. We at Perceval Press certainly thank you for participating in our journey.
A special Happy 100th Birthday wish to the Montreal Canadiens - Joyeux Anniversaire! To all fans of San Lorenzo de Almagro I suggest that, now that we have spoken our minds about the perceived misfortunes and systemic injustices of the championship that closed out our centennial year of 2008, we look to the unfolding present, heads high, and get on with life. Aguante Cuervo!"
—V. M.
