One great poem to read today: Alejandra Pizarnik’s “[All night I hear the noise of water sobbing.]”
This April marks the 30th iteration of National Poetry Month, which was launched by the Academy of American Poets in April 1996. To celebrate, the Literary Hub staff will be recommending one great poem to read every (work) day of the month. We make no claim (except when we do) that these poems are the “best” poems in any category; they are simply poems we love. The only other thing they all have in common is that they are available to read for free online, so you can enjoy them along with us. The internet is still good for some things, after all. Today we recommend:
Alejandra Pizarnik’s “[All night I hear the noise of water sobbing.]”
tr. Patricio Ferrari and Forrest Gander
Once when someone asked me what I like about Pizarnik, the first thing I thought to say was that I love how many of her poems feel damp and cold and hard, like it’s completely dark and she’s sitting alone by a stone fountain hidden far in a cave, and how much I also want to sit there in a puddle, shivering with her. That’s the sensory experience so much of her work evokes for me. I also like her other kinds of poems, the ones that conjure abandoned homes full of tchotchkes, death’s gardens, worlds inside mirrors, but “[All night I hear the noise of water sobbing.]” teleports me instantly into that wet, rocky place.
This poem burrows deep in the spaces between fleeing and yearning, longing and absence, rendering day and night as a cycle of sobbing produced by a speaker who is being watched, who embodies both the “you” and the “I,” who is a spectre surrounded by spectres. “All night I make night in me” is such a rockstar line. “All night I drown in your eyes become my eyes” is screamworthy.
