“Borges: A Rose and Milton
From all the generation of past roses,
Disintegrated in the depths of time,
I want one to be spared oblivion–
One unexceptional rose from all the things
That once existed. Destiny allows me
The privilege of choosing, this first time,
That silent flower, the very final rose
That Milton held before his face, but could
Not see. O rose, vermilion or yellow
Or white, from some obliterated garden,
Your past existence magically lasts
And glows forever in this poetry,
Gold or blood-colored, ivory or shadowed,
As once in Milton’s hands, invisible rose.”
–tr Alastair Reid
"Contracts could have transformed into lookouts." --Robot X
"You know, I thought there was something off about that Royal photograph."
No comments:
Post a Comment