lost in translation

Sadly, the utter magnificence and glory of this rhododendron has been lost in my attempt to translate it into a photograph.

pink rhododendron
I, too, am – or should be – lost in translation, as I have a deadline approaching at a worrying rate of knots.

a floral motif

Today, according to English tradition, is Primrose Day, which marks the anniversary of the death of the Conservative politician, Benjamin Disraeli.

primrose
Perhaps, after my recent foray into more political topics, I should note that my motives for posting are purely floral.

it’s a breeze

Well, no it isn’t a breeze, it’s a goddam’ hurricane out there. So although there are lots of spring flowers about, it’s not ideal conditions for taking photos.

This camelia bloom was just one of the casualties of the storms. Still, at least that meant it stayed reasonably still.

fallen camelia blossom

not by bread alone

If of thy worldly goods thou art bereft
and of the store two loaves alone are left,
sell one and with the dole
buy hyacinths to feed the soul.

blue hyacinths

I seem to have known that verse all my life, and always associated it with the phrase “Man shall not live by bread alone.” Of course the latter is from the Bible; the verse, it seems, is by Rumi. Presumably the original wasn’t written in English, which would account for the variations I found when I went looking to see where it came from.
Continue reading “not by bread alone”

of things past

flower arrangement of pink/red roses in old church

All Hallows Anniversary

A heavy storm has made the flat roof leak
and in the small hours, memories drip
from the bedroom ceiling.

Unlike the rain they cannot be absorbed
by piles of folded towels, or mopped into a bucket, so
I paddle through them, barefoot, towards dawn.

Flower stalls sprout on street corners and blossom
with chrysanthemums and wreaths
for loved ones’ graves.

I skirt the queues and wonder, should I buy
for the ghost of a relationship
long dead?

 

The poem is from the collection Around the Corner from Hope Street.

Read sequentially, the poems reveal a narrative thread, covering a period of 15 months in the life of the female narrator; they deal with themes of alienation and isolation, recovery and renewal, and, of course, love. The book is illustrated in black and white by graphic artist Lance Tooks and available in various digital formats from the Tantamount bookstore.

(A draft of the poem was posted on the blog a few years ago.)