{"id":6029,"date":"2026-09-27T15:25:58","date_gmt":"2026-09-27T22:25:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/?page_id=6029"},"modified":"2026-10-02T18:06:17","modified_gmt":"2026-10-03T01:06:17","slug":"ode","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/collections\/ode\/","title":{"rendered":"Ode"},"content":{"rendered":"

For a sail that haze
\nwipes from the slate of blue,
\n\u00a0<\/span>a vaulting cloud aloft,
\nand clouds washing down to sea,
\nfor a beacon, a distant sprit of shore,
\nwhy such a sad song?<\/p>\n

Much more than space, silence<\/span>weighs heavy on the horizon.<\/span><\/p>\n

And if the ebbing tide
\nleaves in port a sail or two,
\n<\/span>why yearn for the open seas,
\nwhy lament you cannot soar?
\nInconsolate, you always
\nrecall departures,
\nyet off the stern ever swell
\ndistance and despair.<\/p>\n

Night, which cloaks your soul,
\nslowly slips across the sky.
\nIn the west the last hopes of day
\ndim out and disappear.
\nIn vain you trace
\non dusk dissolving
\n<\/span>relentlessly into night
\nrenunciation of your acts.<\/p>\n

Beyond the garden the sea
\nsough like a grove in a forest.
\nThe old port lights up afar
\ntwinkling strings of beads.
\nHiding over the horizon
\nthe day stands sentinel.
\nWho knows what its light will bring
\nor dreams dark now allows.<\/p>\n

For if, when lamp turns off
\neven darker lips slide
\nacross your eyes,
\nif shadow brings
\nlike a searchlight beam
\n<\/span>deeper knowledge
\n<\/span>of loneliness than before,
\n<\/span>what hope can dawn hold out?<\/p>\n

Can morning keep
\nwithin the beacon\u2019s sweeps
\nsome hint of beams etched
\nforever into blue?
\nAfter barren sleepless nights
\nwhy should daybreak bring surcease:
\nall that locked in dark
\nemerging gloriously into day.<\/p>\n

After Jean-Aubert Loranger<\/b>.<\/em><\/p>\n

Pour une voile que la brume<\/em>
\nEfface au tabeau de l’azur,<\/em>
\nPour une nuage au firmament<\/em>
\nDon’t se d\u00e9colore la mer,<\/em>
\nPour une c\u00f4te o\u00f9 brune une phare,<\/em>
\nPourquoi la plainte nostalgique,<\/em>
\nPuisqu’\u00e0 l’horizon le silence<\/em>
\nA plus de poids que l’espace?<\/em><\/p>\n

Si le reflux de la mar\u00e9e<\/em>
\nOublie les voiles dans un port,<\/em>
\nPourquoi le grand d\u00e9sir du large<\/em>
\nEt pleurer l’impossible essor?<\/em>
\nTes yeux garderont du d\u00e9part<\/em>
\nUne inconsolable vision,<\/em>
\nMais \u00e0 la poupe s’agrandit<\/em>
\nLe d\u00e9sespoir \u00a0et la distance.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

La nuit que ton \u00e2me rev\u00eat<\/em>
\nS’achemine vers le couchant.<\/em>
\nVoir \u00e0 l’horizon s’effondre<\/em>
\nCe que peut le jour d’illusion,<\/em>
\nEt c’est bien en vain que tu greffes<\/em>
\nSur la marche irr\u00e9m\u00e9diable<\/em>
\nDe la nuit vers le cr\u00e9puscule<\/em>
\nLe renoncement de tes gestes.<\/em><\/p>\n

La mer bruit au bout du jardin<\/em>
\nComme l’or\u00e9e d’une for\u00eat,<\/em>
\nEt le vieux port s’allume, au loin,<\/em>
\nL’alignement de ses lumi\u00e8res.<\/em>
\nQui vient de dire ce que vaut<\/em>
\n\u00c0 l’horizon le jour enfoui<\/em>
\nComme au bivouac sans rel\u00e8ve<\/em>
\nEt le r\u00eave qu’\u00e9difie l’ombre.<\/em><\/p>\n

Et si la lampe qu’on \u00e9teint\u00a0<\/em>
\nFait retomber sue tes yeux clos<\/em>
\nUne plus obscure paupi\u00e8re,<\/em>
\nSi l’ombre fait surgir en toi<\/em>
\nComme le feu d’un projecteur\u00a0<\/em>
\nUne connaissance plus grande<\/em>
\nEncore de la solitude,<\/em>
\nQue peux-tu esp\u00e9rer de l’aube.<\/em><\/p>\n

Et les matins grarderont-t-ils<\/em>
\nDans l’espace o\u00f9 le phare a tourn\u00e9<\/em>
\nUne trace de ses rayons<\/em>
\nInscrite a1 jamais dans l’azur?<\/em>
\nPour tes longues veill\u00e9es st\u00e9riles<\/em>
\nVoudris-tu l’aube moins p\u00e9nible:<\/em>
\nGlorieuse issue dans la lumi\u00e8re<\/em>
\nDe ce que la nuit vient de clore.<\/em><\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Jean-Aubert Loranger<\/b>. I had forgotten these old translations, which I recently ran across again. I was struck by how both in terms of content and in wording my own poems have been subconciously modeled on Loranger’s work. Originally published in Ellipse 20 (1977), pp\u00a0 <\/span>22-29.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For a sail that haze wipes from the slate of blue, \u00a0a vaulting cloud aloft, and clouds washing down to sea, for a beacon, a distant sprit of shore, why such a sad song? Much more than space, silenceweighs heavy on the horizon. And if the ebbing tide leaves in port a sail or two, … <\/p>\n

Continue reading “Ode”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":5799,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-6029","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/6029","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6029"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/6029\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6058,"href":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/6029\/revisions\/6058"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/5799"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/alteritas.net\/pastis\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6029"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}