> A Photograph of a Crowd

A Photograph of a Crowd

Par |2018-08-21T06:38:15+00:00 6 avril 2012|Catégories : Blog|

 

In a pho­to­graph of a crowd
my head seventh from the edge,
or maybe four in from the left
or twen­ty up from the bot­tom ;

my head, I can’t tell which,
no more the one and only, but alrea­dy one of many,
and resem­bling the resem­bling,
nei­ther clear­ly male nor female ;

the marks it flashes at me
are not dis­tin­gui­shing marks ;

maybe The Spirit of Time sees it,
but he’s not loo­king at it clo­se­ly ;

my demo­gra­phic head
which consumes steel and cables
so easi­ly, so glo­bal­ly,

una­sha­med it’s nothing spe­cial,
undes­pai­ring it’s repla­ceable ;

as if it weren’t mine
in its own way on its own ;

as if a ceme­te­ry were
dug up, full of name­less skulls
of high pre­ser­va­bi­li­ty
des­pite their mor­ta­li­ty ;

as if it were alrea­dy there,
my any head, someone else’s—

where its recol­lec­tions, if any,
would stretch deep into the future.

 

trans­la­ted from the Polish by Joanna Trzeciak
 

Paru dans la Boston Review of Books, été 1998

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