John G Evans © 2019
Poetry translate experience life cynical lack of trust injured as a child humanity factor vision of hope the still woods naked in all my truths
Plant you permanently within us insatiate minsters sour death
To experience the translation of a poet, why, it makes sense.
Though life, cynical as it may be, my lack of trust, humanity –
Injured, thus, as a child, the still woods, naked in all my truths
Planted permanently within me, sour death, insatiate, deceiv’d?
Through the sod, and to turn it up underneath, foul meat, thus we may behold
Through poetics be bold, in simple truths we stand, as grasses of spring covers the prairies.
This new – found resurrection from the poetic breed, words make sense, words take heed.
A word made flesh, O Christ, have thy goodness upon me, and of all bandits,
Take mercy, for we know not what we do.
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