For hammocks and kings, from The FSG Book of Twentieth Century Latin American Poetry, edited by Ilan Stavans.
from A Manifesto / by José Santos Chocano (Peru, 1875-1934), translated by Andrew Rosing
When I feel Incan, I honor that king,
the Sun, who offers me the scepter of his royal power;
when I feel Spanish, I invoke the empire
For the new year, from The FSG Book of Latin American Poetry, edited by Ilan Stavans.
from Fiera de Amor / by Delmira Agustini (Uruguay, 1886-1914), translated by Ilan Stavans
And I clamored to the impossible heart… the statue,
A custodian of its glory, pure and serene,
With its forehead in Tomorrow and its feet in Yesterday
For the passing year, from The Best American Poetry, 2014.
from In My Last Past Life / by Hailey Leithauser
a forest and love and a river, and grief
was a ghost hidden green in the leaves,
an echo off cliffs that bound back the sea
For more stars, from The FSG Book of Twentieth-Century Latin American Poetry, edited by Ilan Stavans.
from The Dead Horse / by Cecilia Meireles (1901-1964, Brazil), translated by James Merrill
Crystal grains were rolling down
his lustrous flank, and the breeze
twisted his mane in a littlest,
lightest arabesque
For flags and seeds, from The Best American Poetry, 2014, Guest Editor, Terrance Hayes, and Senior Editor, David Lehman.
from Sowing / by Eleanor Wilner
I knew a man by such a name, though didn’t know
Until you told me so, that a turnip seed is tiny
For beauty like a cypress, from Selected Translations, by WS Merwin.
from Maido / by Anonymous, Greek modern ballad collection, translated by WS Merwin
Maido is there, Maido
in a palace of mirrors
holding a mirror
Since one of the Pizarros of old did not do well by Peru, this one’s for Peru, from Selected Translations, by W.S. Merwin.
from Ichi the Dwarf / by Anonymous, Quechua, Peru, translated by W.S. Merwin
In Qjelle Huanca the earth opened and a dwarf popped out.
For more stars, from Selected Translations, W.S. Merwin (2013).
from Where the mist has torn / By Niu Hsi Chi (8th Century) translated by W.S. Merwin
The fragment of moon is going out
But your face in the early light
Glitters
For stars, from The Poetry of Surrealism: An Anthology, edited by Michael Benedikt.
from Infinite Millimeter Manifesto / by Jean (Hans) Arp, translated by Michael Benedikt
First we have to let forms, colors, sounds sprout
and then explain them.
This one’s for Dad, gone 23 years; but, I have his handwriting here on the front of this book, which makes him seem like he’s right here: “To Michele, from LT COL. Pizarro.” Happy holiday season to you, whatever your choice of holiday(s) may be.
from The Night Before Christmas / by Clement C. Moore (1779-1863)
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.
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