[New-Poetry] From the Other World: Poems in Memory of James Wright

[David Graham]

You may well be right about Wright reading Pound's *Cathay*--I think  
he read about everything, and had most of it memorized.  But the poem  
below quotes the Arthur Waley translation of Po Chu-I (aka Bai Ju-Yi,  
I believe).


========================================
David Graham
grahamd at ripon.edu

Home Page:
http://web.mac.com/drjazz/iWeb/Site/About%20Me.html

Poetry Library:
http://web.mac.com/drjazz/iWeb/Site/DGPoLibrary.html
==========================================



On Nov 15, 2007, at 11:01 AM, Skip Fox wrote:

> I guess I’ve always realized how important Pound’s translations in  
> _Cathay_ were to a number of Wright’s poems. This poem was an  
> obvious case in point. And I don’t just say this because of the  
> last line (compare to “And send it a thousand miles,  
> thinking . . .” –last line from “The Exile’s Letter”) but because  
> of the phrasing throughout.
>
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: new-poetry-bounces at wiz.cath.vt.edu [mailto:new-poetry- 
> bounces at wiz.cath.vt.edu] On Behalf Of David Graham
> Sent: Thursday, November 15, 2007 10:48 AM
> To: NewPoetry: Contemporary Poetry News &Views
> Subject: [New-Poetry] >From the Other World: Poems in Memory of  
> James Wright
>
>
> I still love a lot of Wright.
>
>
> Here's my favorite.
>
>
> As I Step Over A Puddle At The End Of Winter, I Think Of An Ancient  
> Chinese Governor
>
>
>      And how can I, born in evil days
>
>      And fresh from failure, ask a kindness of Fate?
>
>
>             -- Written A.D. 819
>
>
>
> Po Chu-i, balding old politician,
>
> What's the use?
>
> I think of you,
>
> Uneasily entering the gorges of the Yang-Tze,
>
> When you were being towed up the rapids
>
> Toward some political job or other
>
> In the city of Chungshou.
>
> You made it, I guess,
>
> By dark.
>
>
> But it is 1960, it is almost spring again,
>
> And the tall rocks of Minneapolis
>
> Build me my own black twilight
>
> Of bamboo ropes and waters.
>
> Where is Yuan Chen, the friend you loved?
>
> Where is the sea, that once solved the whole loneliness
>
> Of the Midwest?Where is Minneapolis? I can see nothing
>
> But the great terrible oak tree darkening with winter.
>
> Did you find the city of isolated men beyond mountains?
>
> Or have you been holding the end of a frayed rope
>
> For a thousand years?
>
>
> --James Wright
>
>
>
>
> ========================================
>
> David Graham
>
> grahamd at ripon.edu
>
>
> Home Page:
>
> http://web.mac.com/drjazz/iWeb/Site/About%20Me.html
>
>
> Poetry Library:
>
> http://web.mac.com/drjazz/iWeb/Site/DGPoLibrary.html
>
> ==========================================
>
>
>
>
>
>
> On Nov 15, 2007, at 10:42 AM, Rsgwynn1 at cs.com wrote:
>
>
>
>
> I still love this one.
>
> A Note Left in Jimmy Leonard's Shack
>
>
>
> Near the dry river's water-mark we found
> Your brother Minnegan,
> Flopped like a fish against the muddy ground.
> Beany, the kid whose yellow hair turns green,
> Told me to find you, even if the rain,
> And tell you he was drowned.
>
> I hid behind the chassis on the bank,
> The wreck of someone's Ford:
> I was afraid to come and wake you drunk:
> You told me once the waking up was hard,
> The daylight beating at you like a board.
> Blood in my stomach sank.
>
> Beside, you told him never to go out
> Along the river-side
> Drinking and singing, clattering about.
> You might have thrown a rock at me and cried
> I was to blame, I let him fall in the road
> And pitch down on his side.
>
> Well, I'll get hell enough when I get home
> For coming up this far,
> Leaving the note, and running as I came.
> I'll go and tell my father where you are.
> You'd better go find Minnegan before
> Policemen hear and come.
>
> Beany went home, and I got sick and ran,
> You old son of a bitch.
> You better hurry down to Minnegan;
> He's drunk or dying now, I don't know which,
> Rolled in the roots and garbage like a fish,
> The poor old man.
>
>
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