Jacques Darras [France]
Jacques from Amiens
Position of the Poem
jacques from amiens (french medieval poet)
Translated by the
author
the library rustles
the library rustles with the rustling of pages
a few books open
dictionaries open at the verb to open
in the reflexive form
the door of the library creaks
young girls come in
women come in
babies come in bowling
the moment a child appears the edifice of books collapses
books shrink
the silence chagreens
the barbarian roams in the runes
some books speak out loud
if truth was loud libraries would be noisy
children would stop their ears on entering
truth would stop coming out the mouths of babes
children entering would stand mouths agape
silence can be bought with a card
leave your voice at the entrance
if you cannot find any room for your voice
you must not let your throat tighten
one learns to keep silent
I have learnt to keep silent
you have learnt
she has not
at least she says nothing
she is restless
she is not getting on with her reading
her body prevents her eyes from going forward
her body stands in front of her
she cannot see it though it stands in front of her
she can only see him
the man sitting in front
the man sitting in front of her is her body
I am a book she says
I am a living book
I have leaves
I can walk
I am a wood that walks
I have shouts within me
I hold the whole universe within my leaves
I open
I open non-reflexively
I wait to be opened
put thy hands
Jacques from amiens
wherever all over
where it suits you
the library draws aside
the earth hangs in the sky
the earth does not revolve
the earth no longer revolves
Jacques d’amiens is a heretic
Jacques d’amiens claims the earth never revolved
but woman does
that there is no writing but of woman’s body
that there is no writing but what love gives
the love a woman’s body gives
thy friend also must have her say
do hasten both towards the end
Jacques d’amiens leaves the library
the shelves of the city sing
men go by slice-wise
women cross the street marker-wise
children keep silent
the well of life opens up before jacques
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position
of the poem
Translated by the
author
he is sitting
he is sitting with knees bent
he sees the world
he sees white clover flowers
he sees a red-tiled roof
he sees a patch of grey sky
he does not see the world
he is the world
he could move
he could stand up
he could leave his table
he would go to the kitchen
amid metallic knives
amid pointed forks
amid boiling saucepans
he would carve himself a slice of world
he would bite into with all his teeth
here he sees the world with his fingers
he adds up the world on a key-board
he writes a musical score
the title of the score is the world
it is a piece in G minor
in sky major in tiles sharp
in white clover
in folded knees
the keys of the key-board are black
keep off the keys please
the poem is sitting
the poem is writing itself
please do not speak to the poem
do not disturb
no that is not English
the poem is written in French
the key-board comes from Germany
made in Germany
it is an Alder type of type-writer
though the poem is French
that can be see
from the way the poem is sitting
the poem is not sitting on the world
the poem is sting in his arm-chair
one sees the arm-chair
one sees a piece of the world
one also sees the arm-chair
one sees the arm-chair above all
it is a Picard “arm-chair”
it is a “cadot”
it is a traditional arm-chair of woven straw
it is a peasant’s arm-chair
there are no peasants left
the few that are left had rather have formica
the statistics are beyond doubt
today’s peasants had rather have formica
statistics are not poems
poems are fake statistics
statistics are a waiting-room
statistics wait to be called
if no one ever called them statistics would never move
statistics need a doctor
watch out the poem is about to stand
statistics are being taken care of
watch out the poem is up on his feet
please get out of his way
the poem has gone out
the poem has left his chair empty
sitting where he was one sees what he saw
one sees white clover flowers
one sees a red-tiled roof
one sees a patch of grey sky
one sees the world
suddenly one sees the poem go by
one sees him from where he sat
from the seat he sat on
he does not see us
he does not see we are sitting where he sat
he does not see we see him
the poem is outside
the poem is outside the window-pane
we cannot tell what he sees
we shall know when he is back
poems do come back
poems never go away
one has never seen a poem go away for good
finally
for ever
that would create a vacancy
poems are homely
poems are wilding domestic
they cannot stand still
they cannot stop moving
they cannot stop spinning around
watch out the poem is about to enter
enter the poem
he looks like a poem who is refreshed
he looks inspired
he bends his knees
he straightens up in the arm-chair
the straw creaks
he puts his fingers on the key-board
music mounts from the keys
it is pure delight
there is no beauty to touch the music of the keys
listen
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Copyright ©2007 by Jacques Darras
Jacques Darras was born in 1939 in Picardie, France and is professor
of Anglo-American Literature at the University of Amiens. He has translated
Walt Whitman, Ezra Pound, Malcolm Lowry, Basil Bunting, Geoffrey Hill among
others. He
has published La Maye, 1988 (Trois Cailloux); Le Petit Affluent de la Maye,
1993,William Shakespeare sur la Falaise
de Douvres, 1995, and Van Eyck et les
Rivières, a novel in verse, 1997 (Le Cri).
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