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When we both fell in love
It was as if we were speaking two languages:
Him, English, and me,
The colors of my soul.
There was a language barrier
Since he couldn’t understand my words
My truth
My soul
I wish to find someone
Where I don’t have
To translate my heart
For them to see me
And to love me.

So take this magnifying glass
And when you look into my soul
If you see an ancient text
Then let me go.
this is my 134th poem, written on 11/30/24
Tovarna C19 Nov 24
Torture your body with a heart-wrenching knife
Torture your body with a heart-wrenching knife
Clamp your liberal fingers till they bleed
Indulgently licking lollipops

Stuffing pockets deliberately
Full of dead rodents and live *****
Chocolates, holy substance
Descend upon the mortal land

In the patriarchal landfill of obsolete concepts
Used figures and polite words
Annihilation through suicide -
Annihilation through suicide!

Pitying laughter, cold as frost
Pitying laughter, cold as frost
Pitying laughter, cold as frost
Setting gloriously, on, on, on -

Russian Field of Experiments
Russian Field of Experiments
Russian Field of Experiments
Russian Field of Experiments

Perverse geography
Spelling of hatred
Apology for ineptitude
Legend of optimism

Code of honor for righteous Howitzers
Noble feast of utter prudence
"Abyss" from a baby's mouth
"Bullet" from a baby's mouth

Pitying laughter, cold as frost
Pitying laughter, cold as frost
Pitying laughter, cold as frost
Setting gloriously, on, on, on -

Russian Field of Experiments
Russian Field of Experiments
Russian Field of Experiments
Russian Fields of Experiment

Like man - meaningless art
A noose - revered art
Roasted apples - global art
A timely departure - an art

And the art of being a bystander
And the art of being a bystander

A new way to clean your oven
For those who suffocated in free will
A new way to scrub your noose
For the funny smell on their neck

The latest way to find the culprit
The latest way to find the culprit

Russian Field of Experiments
Russian Field of Experiments

Oblivion - behind the open door
Means someone's coming for you
Means you're important to someone
Important, still

It snows, and snows
Snow flutters upon Russian expanses
Men buried with eyes sealed
Men buried with newspapers wrapped

And yet, it comes to the calf slaughtered
Became everyone's joy and everyone's pride
Everyone's hatred, everyone's will
Everyone's will, and everyone's last days

Bury your body in your grave
Truth behind inheritance of land
What do we mean by inheritance?
Means our patience is running out!

As will be shown, through a pervert's opening -
The keyhole - unrivalled genius
Started the Second World War
Earth's unofficial belly-button
Porcelain inside the mental system

Volunteers out of instinct
In the name of the cosmos and bread crumbs
With the People, capitalized -
The word "People", capitalized!

Swastikas fly, faces stiff
Words of Babylon, never fade
A means once legitimate is
Now annexing our lands

Isn't this exactly what we need?
Isn't this exactly what we need?
Isn't this exactly what we need?

Unavoidably, children wake up
Disease-less, filth-less
Corresponding objects with their true names
Sowing seeds of good, reason, and eternity

Everything seeded, everything named
Food served in a mannered fashion
The first - fruits of knowledge
The second - a boy dripping blood

Lord of Law and Order, victorious
Lord Paramount of Terror in red
Legal holidays for legal citizens
Honed scythe for precocious ears

The Abyss - according to the principle
Of movement towards the Sun
Do not shed tears above your porridge, no


...


Then who had their lives taken in the last battle?
And who died for the slip of a genius?
And who poured their glass full of pity
For that savage battle in Stalingrad?

Planes crash, grinning
Into hills of the Promised Land
Into hills of the Promised Land

And of my love - free her I will
From the inevitable pain
****** her with ginger cakes
**** her with a drunken boot
String her upon the clouds
A child - an unloved doll!

Pitying laughter, cold as frost
Pitying laughter, cold as frost
Pitying laughter, cold as frost
Setting gloriously, on, on, on -

Russian Field of Experiments
Russian Field of Experiments
Russian Field of Experiments
Russian Field of Experiments

With the scent of oil -
Eternally
An incomplete translation of Igor Federovich Letov's Русское поле экспериментов.
Zack Ripley May 30
I understand there will be times the words I say won't be the ones you hear.
And you might lash out in anger
disguised as fear.
Fear that one day, we'll fight, I'll leave,
and never come back.
But once you calm down, like you always do,
I'll be there to remind you that sometimes, words get lost in translation.
And it's OK, because it happens to everyone.
chale to kaT hī jā.egā safar āhista āhista
ham us ke paas jaate haiñ magar āhista āhista

Endure and the journey will end, gradually O’ slowly
We move to be ever so near but gently O’ slowly

abhī tāroñ se khelo chāñd kī kirnoñ se iThlāo
milegī us ke chehre kī sahar āhista āhista

For now, play with the stars and pace with moonlit rays
You will meet manifestation of her dawn gradually O’ slowly

darīchoñ ko to dekho chilmanoñ ke raaz to samjho
uTheñge parda-hā-e-bām-o-dar āhista āhista

Observe the windows and know the mystery of curtains
Secrecy of wall and terrace will be no more, gradually O’ slowly

zamāne bhar kī kaifiyat simaT aa.egī sāġhar meñ
piyo un añkhḌiyoñ ke naam par āhista āhista

State of time has poured into a wine-cup
Drink in the honour of those eyes but gradually O’ slowly

yūñhī ik roz apne dil kā qissa bhī sunā denā
ḳhitāb āhista āhista nazar āhista āhista

Just like that, one day reveal the tale of your heart
Conveying softly O’ slowly, glancing secretly O’ slowly

✒  Translated by ℐamil Hussain
Jeremy Betts Apr 1
Does a poem write itself?
Do they exist before created?
In essence, existing all around us
Absorbed into the psyche
Processed through the brain
Sent to a hand
Finished through the tip of a pen
Too then again
Be consumed by another human person
Producing a new translation
A different interpretation
But there's limits to randomization
Will we ever get to the point where every thought has been expressed?
Every possible sentence arrangement has been recorded and sent to the press?
Is there still the possibility that an original thought can be had?
It's a silly concept but maybe
One day writers block will be victorious
There's only so many different ways that these words can be organized into
Though, I can't imagine what that'll look like
When every thought has been thought through
When nothing's new
Will it still continue?

©2024
Carved stone for all to read
You cannot read it though
Feel it taught all over my skin
You just touch what you WANT to know
It could not be more obvious
Written all over my face
Choose to remain blind to the words
For you in the first place
If needing me to translate further
Not sure how else I can
Emotions simple to decipher
You don't want to know who I am
Written 2-8-21
Zywa Sep 2023
Get to know yourself:

listen to what's being said --


listen and translate.
Tale "A Change of tongue" (2003, Antjie Krog)

Collection "Home sea"
Michael R Burch Jun 2023
These are my modern English translations of ancient Greek poems and epigrams by Sophocles, including antinatalist poems and epigrams.

It’s a hundred times better not be born;
but if we cannot avoid the light,
the path of least harm is swiftly to return
to death’s eternal night!
Sophocles (circa 497-406 BC), Oedipus at Colonus, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Not to have been born is best,
and blessed
beyond the ability of words to express.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Never to be born may be the biggest boon of all.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Oblivion: What a boon, to lie unbound by pain!
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How happy the soul who speeds back to the Source,
but crowned with peace is the one who never came.
—a Sophoclean antinatalist passage from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The happiest life is one empty of thought.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Consider no man happy till he lies dead, free of pain at last.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

What is worse than death? When death is desired but denied.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When a man endures nothing but endless miseries, what's the use of hanging on day after day, edging closer and closer toward death? Anyone who warms his heart with the false glow of flickering hope is a wretch! The noble man should live with honor and die with honor. That's all that can be said.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Children anchor their mothers to life.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How terrible, to see the truth when the truth brings only pain to the seer!
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Wisdom outweighs all the world's wealth.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fortune never favors the faint-hearted.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Wait for evening to appreciate the day's splendor.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We need evening to appreciate the day's attractions.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Evening helps us appreciate the day's attractions.
—Sophocles, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Since time dawned
only the dead have experienced peace;
life is snow burning in the sun.
—Nandai, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: Sophocles, Greek, translation, translations, English, antinatalist, antinatalism, procreation, contraception, contraceptive, birth, born, death, life and death, day, eve, evening, night, fortune, wisdom, wealth, truth, pain, mother, mothers, mother and child, children

#antinatalist #antinatalism #Sophocles
Michael R Burch May 2023
These are my modern English translations of haiku about plum blossoms, plums and plum trees. In Japanese poetry the plum ("ume") is associated with the beginning of spring and good fortune; plum trees were often planted facing northeast to ward off bad luck. Plum blossoms are widely loved and appreciated by the Japanese people; they symbolize refinement, purity, nobility and the remembrance of love.

Picking autumn plums
my wrinkled hands
once again grow fragrant
― Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Clinging
to the plum tree:
one blossom's worth of warmth…
—Hattori Ransetsu, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

On adjacent branches
the plum tree blossoms bloom
petal by petal―love!

― Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
White plum blossoms―
though the hour grows late,
a glimpse of dawn
― Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch; this is believed to be Buson's death poem and he is said to have died before dawn

Lately the nights
dawn
plum-blossom white.
—Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation of his jisei (death poem) by Michael R. Burch

A shy maiden:
the loveliness of the lone plum
blossoming
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Longing for plum blossoms:
bowing before the deutzia,
weeping.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Moonlit plum tree,
tarry!
Spring will return soon.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The plum blossom’s fragrance
warms
winter’s frigid embrace.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

White plum blossoms:
have the cranes
gone undercover?
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Suddenly, the scent of plums
on a mountain path:
sunrise!
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Warm sun unfolds
the plum blossom’s scent:
a mountain path.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The fragrance of plum blossoms
on a foggy path:
the sun rising.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The plum in full bloom
must not be disturbed
by the wind.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The plum's fragrance:
the past
holds such pathos.
—Matsuo Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Are you the butterfly
and I the dreaming heart
of Soshi?
—Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
kimi ya cho / ware ya shoshi no / yume gokoro

The poem above is a reference to a butterfly dream of Chuang Tzu, a Taoist sage and poet who was a major influence on Basho. Soshi is the Japanese rendering of the name Chuang Tzu. I believe what Basho may have meant is something closer to this:

Are you the butterfly
while I pursue dreams
of Soshi?
—Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Are you the butterfly
while in my dreams
I flit after Soshi?
—Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It's not at all anxious to bloom,
the plum tree at my gate.
―Kobayashi Issa, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The red plum's fallen petals
seem to ignite horse ****.
―Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Intruder!―
This white plum tree
was once outside our fence!
―Yosa Buson, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The white poppy
accepts the butterfly's broken wing
as a keepsake
—Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
shirageshi ni / hane mogu cho no / katami kana

As autumn deepens
a butterfly sips
chrysanthemum dew
—Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
aki o hete / cho mo nameru ya / kiku no tsuyu
The translation above is slated to be published by Emma Burleigh in her book "Earth Color."

A single leaf
of paulownia falling
reflects the sun.
—Takahama Kyoshi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I caught a falling cherry petal;
but opening my fist ...
nothing
—Takahama Kyoshi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

They call it a white peony
yet it contains
hints of red
—Takahama Kyoshi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Evening shadows
grow thick
on the floating algae
—Takahama Kyoshi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The snake slithered away
yet his eyes, having met mine,
remained
—Takahama Kyoshi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The bamboo grove
is lit
by the yellow spring sunlight
—Takahama Kyoshi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Chikurin ni/ Ki naru haruhi wo/ Aogikeri

On a hot summer night
dreams and reality
merge.
—Takahama Kyoshi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Mizika-yo ya/ Yume mo utsutsu mo / Onazi koto

The summer butterfly
has to look sharp
to make its getaway.
—Takahama Kyoshi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Natsu no cho/ Manako surudoku/ Kakeri kishi

The autumn sky
is severed
by the big chinquapin tree.
—Takahama Kyoshi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Akizora wo/ Futatsu ni tateri/ ****-taiju

“Cawa-cawa!”
The winter crow
elocutes coarsely.
—Takahama Kyoshi, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Kawa kawa to/ Ookiku yuruku/ Samu-garasu

You rise with the sun,
mysteriously warm,
also scattering sunbeams.
—Michael R. Burch

As springs’ budding blossoms emerge
the raptors glide mercilessly.
—Michael R. Burch

I wrote this haiku-like poem above on 3-27-2023 after the Nashville Covenant school massacre.—Michael R. Burch

Incomprehensible
by Michael R. Burch

“Slain” — an impossible word to comprehend.
The male lion murders cubs,
licks his lips, devours them.

Her sky-high promises:
midday moon
—Michael R. Burch

The north wind’s refrain,
a southbound train ...
Invitation?
—Michael R. Burch

The north wind’s refrain,
the receding strain
of a southbound train ...
Invitation?
—Michael R. Burch

The moon blushed
then fled behind a cloud:
her stolen kiss.
—Michael R. Burch

Elderly sunflowers:
bees trimming their beards.
—Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: haiku, translation, Japanese, Japan, Oriental, plum, plums, plum blossom, plum blossoms, plum trees, spring, good luck, good fortune, love, purity, refinement, nobility
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