DPF / Melançon

For groves and colonnades, from Selected Translations, by W.S. Merwin.

from Blind Painter / by Robert Melançon (French, b. 1947)

But you should not linger
in this metaphorical palace
old as language. Here are trees
all waiting to be named.

DPF / Cendrars

For fish and beaches, from A Book of Luminous Things,  edited by Czeslaw Milosz.

from Aleutian Islands / by Blaise Cendrars, translated by Monique Chefdor (1887-1961)

mountain ash pine trees Arctic willows
Bed of heather and Alpine plants

DPF / Anonymous

For dreams, from Selected Translations, by W.S. Merwin.

from The Dream / by Anonymous (Eskimo/1969)

I dreamed you
walking on the shore
over the little stones

DPF / Parra

All I can really think of is the Shreve High football stadium, but in the interest of continuing to try not to repeat any poets, here’s a magical poem that’s unrelated to Super Bowl Sunday. However, there is a tunnel in this poem, and tunnels will obviously produce athletes at just the right moment today; so, this is why I chose it. This one’s from The FSG Book of Twentieth-Century Latin American Poetry, edited by Ilan Stavans.

from The Tunnel / by Nicanor Parra, b. 1914 / Chile, translated by Mark Strand

I spent the nights at my work table
Absorbed in practicing automatic writing.

DPF / Hinton

For Sears and Rembrandts, from The Best American Poetry, 2014.

from No Doubt About It (I Gotta Get Another Hat) / by Le Hinton, b.1952

how does a poet
fall back into the sky

DPF / Wilson

For candles at dusk, from A Book of Luminous Things, edited by Czeslaw Milosz.

from Dusk in My Backyard / by Keith Wilson, b. 1927

pecans drop, rattle down —

the tin roof of our house
rivers to platinum in the early moon