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

[Halvard Johnson]

As a recall from a conversation with Wright (back a ways),
Robert Payne's collection of Chinese poetry called *The White
Pony* was quite important to him.

Hal

"Always treat language like a dangerous toy."
			--Anselm Hollo

Halvard Johnson
================
halvard at earthlink.net
http://home.earthlink.net/~halvard/index.html
http://entropyandme.blogspot.com
http://imageswithoutwords.blogspot.com
http://www.hamiltonstone.org
http://home.earthlink.net/~halvard/vidalocabooks.html


On Nov 15, 2007, at 11:21 AM, David Graham wrote:

> 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.
>>
>>
>> _______________________________________________
>>
>> New-Poetry mailing list
>>
>> New-Poetry at wiz.cath.vt.edu
>>
>> http://wiz.cath.vt.edu/mailman/listinfo/new-poetry
>>
>>
>> _______________________________________________
>> New-Poetry mailing list
>> New-Poetry at wiz.cath.vt.edu
>> http://wiz.cath.vt.edu/mailman/listinfo/new-poetry
>
> _______________________________________________
> New-Poetry mailing list
> New-Poetry at wiz.cath.vt.edu
> http://wiz.cath.vt.edu/mailman/listinfo/new-poetry

-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: http://wiz.cath.vt.edu/pipermail/new-poetry/attachments/20071115/dfe39494/attachment-0001.html