Here are three of my poems and the paintings that inspired them.
The third poem, "Aspen in the Wind," has been translated into
French and Spanish. Both translations are posted here.
--Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Proserpine
Proserpine
(after a painting by D. G. Rossetti)
Her eyes are blue like her cloak,
deep ocean blue, her lips red
from forbidden seeds--the open slit
in the pomegranate between her fingers.
Her long neck invites,
her dark, wavy hair falls
like the ivy branch behind her.
Long fingers embrace the fruit, her wrist.
Above, milk & honey, the bee--
her mother Demeter and
all the roses, lilies, sheaves,
the light of consciousness, virginity.
--from The Age of the Mother
(Laughing Coyote, 1992,
Copyright © Clifton Snider)
--Leonardo da Vinci, Madonna and Child with St. Anne
Sophia
(after a painting by Leonardo da Vinci)
The Virgin Mary sprawls
on her mother's lap. Shoulders
almost bare, bare feet on
both of them. They both wear
the Leonardo smile. St. Anne grins
with knowledge bigger than the sky,
the rocky mountains, the spreading tree,
rooted in the rocks they sit on.
Mary, the baby Jesus she reaches for
& holds, the lamb whose ear he clutches,--
all are innocent, foolish, serene.
Mother Anne knows. She decreed it all.
For now she grins, the merest
hint of a sneer. She forgives,
protects, nourishes. She has virgin-milk
to give: phallic power from her breast.
--from The Age of the Mother
(Laughing Coyote, 1992,
Copyright © Clifton Snider)
Aspen in the Wind
When I think of what you do
I think of a painting by Caillebotte:
three men scrape a hardwood floor,
their strong backs bowed, bent
like the wood, their arms too--
perpendicular or parallel, brown, potent,
symmetrical as Degas dancers,
fragile as they are firm,
autumn aspens in the wind:
they fill the eyes with gold,
the ears with vibrations.
The air oozes ripeness.
--Copyright © Clifton Snider, 1998 and 2012
--Gustave Caillebotte, The Floorscrapers
Un Tremble dans le vent
Quand je pense à ce que tu fais
Je pense à une peinture de Caillebotte
Trois hommes raclent un parterre de bois
Leurs dos arqués, penchés
Comme le bois, leurs bras aussi--
Perpendiculaires ou parallèles, bruns, puissants,
Symétriques comme les danseuses de Degas,
Fragiles autant que fermes,
Trembles d'automne dans le vent;
ils remplissent leurs yeux d'or,
Leurs oreilles de vibrations.
L'air suinte de maturité.
--Copyright © Clifton Snider and Patrice Fauchier, 1999 and
2012.
Temblón en el Viento
Cuando pienso en lo que haces
pienso en una pintura de Caillebotte:
tres hombres raspan un piso de madera,
sus espaldas fuertes se inclinó
como la madera, los brazos tambien--
perpendicular o paralelo, marrón potente,
simétrico como bailarinas de Degas,
frágil, ya que son firmes,
temblónes del otoño en el viento:
llenan los ojos de oro,
los oidos con las vibraciones.
El aire rezuma madurez.
--Copyright © Clifton Snider and Melvin Rosales, 2012