It was a hot weekend in the Arizona. But like in any
desert, the nights remain cool allowing for long walks with my dog before
sunrise and close to midnight. The rest of the weekend I spent reading. This
time I revisited the “prose poems” of Baudelaire known as Le spleen de Paris, a
collection of fifty prose poems published in 1869, posthumously.
Written in paragraph form like prose, Baudelaire’s
work deals with the Parisian life through a musicality and aesthetic outlook one
finds in his poems. He has used the word Spleen
before in his previous works to describe his dislike of many aspects of life.
In this case, it is specifically about aspects of life in Paris that he covers
through a writing genre which was adopted years later by another famous and rebellious
French poet, Arthur Rimbaud.
As I read “Les
Fenêtres” (The Windows) I recalled a photo I had taken in 2019. After a
second reading, I let my pencil slide on a yellow pad page. I often take notes
of the moments a poem (or prose) inspires me during lecture.
Here is what my pencil tip left behind:
So let the window half-open
And recall skies in rain
Eyes in surprise taken
And words on lips forgotten
Summer rain and the sea deaf
To the cry of returning waves
Let the window half-closed
Salty winds keep your candles in dark
And in the stillness of the unsaid
Forget about skies in rain
And barefoot and the briny breeze in your hair
Dance on the beach
But leave the window wide open
June 29, 2025
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2025
PS/ I found a masterful translation of “Les Fenêtres”
by Emily Leithauser at https://www.literarymatters.org
No comments:
Post a Comment