Then: half of our divas went inland.


More, lost. She even bit her sister’s laugh;
angsty and brittle, sis laughs.
Game and brittle sing flight.
But I’ve rigged a jetstream with her fam,
and I’ve spoken to Sig and Clunk.
Ouch! Very many ninjas coming, and dragons,
very instant saddle jeers road – did yours?
All things border, see? Zig oak rings.
Vinegar? I sold hundreds.
Very many skies and half open doors,
some liters tell and eight rum formula.
Then, (oh, and linger!) marking under us,
vanished lies her melon trading.
Insomuch are even on her mother. Done.

 

 

This bit of fun nonsense is a homophonic translation for day 30 of NaPoWriMo, using this poem by Laureate, Tomas Transtromer:

Den halvfärdiga himlen

Modlösheten avbryter sitt lopp.

Ångesten avbryter sitt lopp.

Gamen avbryter sin flykt.

Det ivriga ljuset rinner fram,

även spökena tar sig en klunk.

Och våra målningar kommer i dagen,

våra istidsateljéers röda djur.

Allting börjar se sig omkring.

Vi går i solen hundratals.

Var människa en halvöppen dörr

som leder till ett rum för alla.

Den oändliga marken under oss.

Vattnet lyser mellan träden.

Insjön är ett fönster mot jorden.

 

 


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2 Responses to Then: half of our divas went inland.

  1. laffy taffy says:

    Oh, man. I haven’t done this in a million years. The couple of times I’ve done it, I’ve loved the results. Just like here.

    “She even bit her sister’s laugh;
    angsty and brittle” … Fan-frickin’-tastic.

    “Very many ninjas coming, and dragons,
    very instant saddle jeers road”

    “Then, (oh, and linger!) marking under us,
    vanished lies her melon trading. [also ‘tragedy’]”

    Poetry can be so ridiculously fun when you let it. I love a lot of silliness in poetry … obviously. 🙂

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