Spiritual olive,
man devoid, extinguished moment. Allure of the sea, whispers haunting
and scent of invocation;
what reason is there, then for pungent yet original statement?
I should ignore the stains of hot-pink profanity;
cries of a thousand hordes, saying this is not the way it’s meant to be,
who are they to decide the potential of our voice?
In my drunken state
the darkness takes a chance and stops the clock,
from this land,
a great axiom of archaeological heritages begin to be evidenced,
any comparison
that is not strictly factual runs the risk of being interpreted as subjective;
cobbles spattered with chai and wreckage of flowers,
what have we come to?
Karachi, Karachi, on this same square the henchmen killed
the only woman
courageous enough to talk, how did we let that happen?
At times the wind from the burning would take
dark kites along
and riders on the carousel would be seen catching petals in midair;
but on that day I thought only of the loneliness of the dying,
of how the trees whose fruit
contributes positively to the economy, began
to feel anguish,
anybody who predicts the death of a city must be birthing galaxies of their own—
the prologues are over, it’s a question now.
Karachi, Karachi, violet dreams replace woe in the shades of our minds;
what once was lost is gained
when the blue wind boy and white horse girl met, the first fall of the awakened
they named it.
It takes only a fleeting moment.
Original poem: Carnal apple, woman filled, burning moon
by Pablo Neruda
Photo credits: Alvaro Castagnet Watercolor City, Pinterest
An early unveiling of the April Poem-a-Day Challenge, Day 7 🥠
Lisa hosts at dVerse and asks to choose one of our favorite
poems and ‘flip the script.’ Come join us! 💝
Posted for Poetics: “Flipping The Meaning,” @dVerse Poets Pub
You really went for it, Sanaa, and it was not an easy prompt, even with a short poem. The lines that really stand out for me in your flipped version of an already complex Neruda poem are:
‘I should ignore the stains of hot-pink profanity;
cries of a thousand hordes, saying this is not the way it’s meant to be,
who are they to decide the potential of our voice?’
and
‘At times the wind from the burning would take
dark kites along
and riders on the carousel would be seen catching petals in midair’.
The kites reminded me of a scene from the film of The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini.
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Kim 😀 so glad you enjoyed it! I was really nervous about posting this one 💄❤️
What a powerful statement:
“I should ignore the stains of hot-pink profanity;
cries of a thousand hordes, saying this is not the way it’s meant to be, who are they to decide the potential of our voice?”
This is what I call flipping the script bigtime.
I will wait to read Neruda’s original because I want to absorb the potency of yours.
Thank you so much, Lisa 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
(and thank you for the glorious prompt) 🌹
Neruda is not an easy poet to play topsy turvy with but I’m sure he would love what you wrote – it still sounds so much like him. I love so many of the lines and what a great title!! Some of these would make great prompts to jump start more poetry. I especially like this one:
“In my drunken state
the darkness takes a chance and stops the clock,”
Thank you so much, Laura 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Wow. I’m speechless. After reading it three times, I keep getting more and more out of it. Like Laura above, I really like “In my drunken state
the darkness takes a chance and stops the clock.” Wicked good writing!
Thank you so much, Susan 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
I love how the Neruda poem inspired you to write this amazing poem of your city. Your voice is bold with this line: who are they to decide the potential of our voice? The ending lines give me hope:
what once was lost is gained. Cheers!
Thank you so much, Grace 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you! Cheers 💄❤️
“I should ignore the stains of hot-pink profanity;
cries of a thousand hordes, saying this is not the way it’s meant to be, who are they to decide the potential of our voice?”
Good lord, YES! Oh, I felt that!
Neruda is powerful writer, but you met, matched and flipped head on , and give us =this=, Sanaa. I don’t even know what to say. I read yours thrice, before I went to Neruda’s words and then read yours again because you =nailed= this !
Awwww gosh! Thank you so much, Raivenne 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
I think you’ve done something really special here Sanaa, in taking Neruda’s words and transforming them into a lament for Karachi. It’s not enough to simply reverse the words, they need to make sense in their own right as yours do!
Thank you so much, Ingrid 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
Sanaa, honestly, you don’t type. You paint.
<3
David
Awww shucks! You are too kind 💄❤️
Wow, Kudos to your brilliant effort, Sanaa. It’s indeed a tremendous effort to flip a poem, and a lengthy one like you have chosen. You have written very well. 🙂
Thank you so much, Kitty 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Pure and simple, awe-inspiring poetry! Discovered my mouth ‘hanging open’ as I read.
PS, Dupuytren’s isn’t as painful as it is annoying. I can no longer make a fist which makes gripping difficult. Thank you for caring.
Thank you so much, Helen 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Neruda can be so complex….you’ve done justice here with the flip. These words stand out to me:
“I should ignore the stains of hot-pink profanity;”
Wasn’t there a prompt a while ago that asked us to write and think in terms of colors? THIS line would be a superb illustration of that type of thinking…and works so well here as well!
Thank you so much, Lillian 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️