
What remains to me of you
What remains to me of you
what
what’s left
appalling dreadful love
fleeting dignity
fertile dawn in my writing
(damaged diadem, I shine encrusted in your splendors)
what remains to me of you but these few
crazy verses of tongue and strum.
What but to annul the orifices
the segregation of silence
to idolize the determination
the overdetermination
destiny
to smear your contingency with interminable ceremonies
to love you, that is.
The tacit roaring still echoes between us
to love each other, did I say?
The problem is punctuation.
In quotation marks
I have you in quotation marks
or sometimes in parentheses I have you
faithful frenzy.
What remains to me but
the machinations of a transpiration:
the voracity of a song’s burden perverts presages
disparages the sound’s august surfaces
rends
the jingle falls through the declension of onomatopoeia
the obvious eats at the intricacies of the word,
prays.
The noises of a siesta
are like a siesta.
The word “indebted” was
one through crystallized
a song that murmured at my shoulders
it set my actions to music.
It never had sung, you’d say, it was the tone
in which my mother would name me
it never finished singing
it only would sing.
The father would cross women indexes with his annulling eye
it was the indicative mode for a maternal imperfect preterite.
While
everything occurs while
(you never say while)
your brother would read Pound at the top of his lungs
out in any night weather
and you would translate Cervantes, just in case.
His hand on yours
his book on your book and the poem
sowing itself here below.
I am holding onto the arches, the retching
we have passed through knowing that we would not reach
the golden anniversary
and this arch or retch prior to all devolution or vomit
and the totalling of our encounter
the buckings, the accountings
the points of view
the points of divergence
dot, dot, dot
“Why aren’t we worrying about the dew?”
We won’t go to Verona or Elba
but still there remains to me,
what remains to me of you but these few
splendors soldering themselves in the conceit of a writing.
The underlining is mine.
What remains to me of you: the loved metonymy of the past.
Texts are foreign.
I have you on the tip of my Tongue.
*
Susana Cerdá (1948-2010) was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Her poetry collection _Solia_ was published in 1988. Among other journal publications, she appeared frequently in the Argentine poetry journal _Xul_, edited by Jorge Santiago Perednik. Her work has also appeared in translation in English language journals and in the anthology _The Xul Reader_ (Roof Books).
Molly Weigel is a poet, translator, and therapist living in central New Jersey. Her version of Jorge Santiago Perednik’s Shock of the Lenders (Action Books) received the PEN Poetry in Translation Prize in 2013.
Artwork is from Leif Holmstrand’s “Holy Helpers”
October 30, 2019 at 5:33 pm
Sublime!
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