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Mar 2016
The curtain frays at the edges
Unwinds, disobedient
Only to reveal
No bed (where one should be)

Dainty white muslin
Conflicted, floats
Away from the pane
More like a halo (than a shroud)

Here, in the cage of your mind,
Lies a mandolin
Hollow (with no music in its heart)

Towards another window
Its brother may lie
Born of nothing (but of itself)
A loose translation of MallarmΓ©'s Un dentelle s'abolit. It's near impossible to capture every aspect of the original French poem, so I've opted for the a simple that expresses my personal take on the poem whilst still be as faithful as possible to the imagery of the original.
Evie Brill Paffard
Written by
Evie Brill Paffard  York
(York)   
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