Severed evensong, old peacock eyes
bathed in raspberries, marble lives
joined by tears. She dreamed
the falling tea, a hysterical mouth,
the strength of women’s hands
and I, half-opened, approached me.
Originally a weblog for the "Translate This" workshop at the Poetry Project at St. Mark's Church that has morphed into a blog on translation, most often French translation, and even more often French poetry. Please send announcements for translation events in NYC to marcelladurand at sprynet.com.