Oh sadness. Sunk in the blue-black grooves
Of the dark gleaming leaves. Dark figures,
Surround me. Red embers glow. Merry
Full moon extends its arms, dangerous white cloud
Departs, black cloud sticks its tongue
Out. Smoke and immense animal bodies
Roil in the ravines. Water, lichen, moss, at least
Everything drips with silver dew.
They are not angels—they are fairies,
Flying by with bright thighs,
Grazing the bushes.
I shiver in the morning cold.
——
Faithful captain
Tell me
Show me the place in the clouds
That the swallow’s wing opened
The wavelike trough in the goddess’s hair
The green lights in the forest.
Now it is night.
Wicked shrews whack the goblins
The wheels have stopped turning
The darkness knows itself not—
It doesn’t even bother to ask.
It is a fist within a fist
Seen by no one.
——
For you, against you
Throw all the stones behind you
And let fall the walls.
At you, on you
The hooves tear loose
For a hundred singers above.
I gut my mushrooms
I am the first guest come through
And let fall the walls.
_____________________________________
Excerpted from The Loveliest Vowel Empties: Collected Poems by Meret Oppenheim, translated from German and French by Kathleen Heil and published by World Poetry Books.
