Patrick Williamson
April, 2017: Poetry reading, discussion and writing with Patrick Williamson
Walking and drinking with friends, at leisure, in the foothills
Hail net and hail gun
Face across the valley
Chase the grenadier
Rest house to hanging rock
These paths that criss cross
The mysterious death
The cow on haunches
Slashing of the naga
Long hair is human
He’s sheltered in the woods
This lame warrior
Portered in palinquin
Blow horn bang the dhol
Stopover to stopover
Sway with each question
The five-ways not taken
The core you once knew
An evergreen ban oak
The one with white hairs
Tolerant of strong winds
Each burnt root
Each road trodden
Each tree felled
Each cup of chai
Bridle the crashing of trees
The claws that strike ground
Each bloody valley echo
Eye well the next cairn
Each whirling of a shell
The om of the rock
Gods are human again
Worthy of cleared ways
Hail nets that web apple
Trees in blue breeches
Scattered on grassy ribs
Hewn from slope, capture
Trap rain, create, sustain
Shoot the monkey, sir!
Duck, the wall is thick tile
Hail gun whumps thrice
Sit with me a while, scotch?
Skittles, petanca?
A toast, a toast, a toast,
Again another
Clink, click or clack, devta
Whirls again in dusk
The rush of twinkling quiet
Create, lighten, sustain
Om speech and breath
Hail gun that rocks a storm
Dissolve the hail, banish
Each approach of thunder
Ring the ghanta, enter
Cast aside wandering thoughts
Mark the conclusion
Om take that road
The bone-rattling path
To Tikkar Narayan
Use dipper at night
To distant clouded peaks
Green caps, middle land
The cadenced chants
The sun, the moon, fire
Rebirth from ash
Fragrant, nourishes, grows all
House from ruin
So may I be released, not reft
Man from despair
Stumble forward, these waves
Dissolve the hail
(2017)
Patrick was raised and educated mostly in Britain but lives and works mostly in Paris, with frequent visits to Rome. He has 30 years of published poetry and translations.
Patrick graduated from the University of East Anglia. His three decades of published poetry since include Beneficato (2015), Gifted (2014), Tiens ta langue/Hold your tongue (2014), Nel Santuario (2013) and Trois Rivières/Three Rivers (2010). He has translated, among others, Tunisian poet Tahar Bekri and Quebecois poet Gilles Cyr, and edited Quarante et un poètes de la Grande-Bretagne/Forty-One Poets of Great Britain (2003). Patrick has twice been an invited poet at the Festival International de Poésie at Trois-Rivières in Québec, and was editor and translator of The Parley Tree, French-speaking poetry from Africa and the Arab World (2012).
Handiwork
One created with all beauty, wonder and diversity,
One forces and powers against desire for life on earth;
One that moves like a fastball, breaks open old worlds,
One the poem par excellence, abrasive, with pace;
One to unearth new ways of being human, of human being
For what you see is only passing away
For what you cannot now see, but only imagine, is undying;
Once all the seas crossed our selves shall come singing,
One to see and speak truth amid falsity and fabrications,
One to hang the possible in front of the listeners,
Lead them to when they say, if it were true, I would do it
Being in earshot of poetic speech that dwells in us deeply,
That dares suggest there is a still more excellent way;
Ingest, chew on it a while, take it into your selves
in full measure,
Be heralds and harbingers, poems even,
Else what are we doing here?
Ouvrage
Un créé de toute beauté, toute merveille, toute diversité
Un forces dressées contre le désir de vie sur la terre ;
Un à la vitesse d’une balle lancée dans des mondes disparus,
Un le poème par excellence, caustique, en cadence ;
Un pour fouiller d’autres façons d’être humain, un être humain
Car ce que tu vois ne fais que passer
Car ce que tu ne vois pas maintenant et que tu imagines, ne meurt pas ;
Traversant les océans nous viendrons en chantant,
Un pour voir et dire le vrai entre le faux et le fabriqué,
Un pour donner le possible à ceux qui nous écoutent,
Les amener à dire, si c’était vrai, je le ferais
À l’écoute du poème au plus profond de nous,
Qui ose nous montrer une voie plus parfaite encore ;
Ingérer, mâcher ça un temps, l’introduire en nous totalement,
Être messagers, annonciateurs, poèmes même,
Ou bien à quoi bon être ici ?
(Traduction : Claude Held)
Opera delle sue mani
Uno creato in totale bellezza, meraviglia e varietà,
Uno forze e poteri contro il desiderio di vita sulla terra;
Uno in moto come una palla scagliata, sventra mondi passati,
Uno il poema par excellence, ruvido, sincopato;
Uno per portare alla luce altri modi di essere umani, dell’essere umano
Perché quel che vedi è soltanto svanire
Perché quello che ora non riesci a vedere, ma immagini solo, sta non-morendo;
Finché tutti i mari che hanno attraversato i nostri sé verranno cantando,
Uno per vedere e dire la verità fra le menzogne e le invenzioni,
Uno per mettere in mostra il possibile davanti agli ascoltatori,
Portarli sul punto in cui dicono, se fosse vero, lo farei
Tenersi a portata d’orecchio dal discorso poetico che alberga profondo in noi,
Che ancora osa proporre una via più eccellente;
Ingeritela, masticatela un poco, prendetela nel vostro sé,
in tutta la sua misura,
Siate araldi e precursori, poesie perfino,
Altrimenti che ci stiamo a fare qui?
(Traduzione : Guido Cupani)
This poem originally appeared in La Traductiere (No. 31, Poèmes que nous sommes/Our selves as poems) and was subsequently published in Tiens ta langue/Hold your tongue (Editions Harmattan, 2014), with the French translation by Claude Held. Italian translation by Guido Cupani (previously unpublished).
Walking and drinking with friends, at leisure, in the foothills
Hail net and hail gun
Face across the valley
Chase the grenadier
Rest house to hanging rock
These paths that criss cross
The mysterious death
The cow on haunches
Slashing of the naga
Long hair is human
He’s sheltered in the woods
This lame warrior
Portered in palinquin
Blow horn bang the dhol
Stopover to stopover
Sway with each question
The five-ways not taken
The core you once knew
An evergreen ban oak
The one with white hairs
Tolerant of strong winds
Each burnt root
Each road trodden
Each tree felled
Each cup of chai
Bridle the crashing of trees
The claws that strike ground
Each bloody valley echo
Eye well the next cairn
Each whirling of a shell
The om of the rock
Gods are human again
Worthy of cleared ways
Hail nets that web apple
Trees in blue breeches
Scattered on grassy ribs
Hewn from slope, capture
Trap rain, create, sustain
Shoot the monkey, sir!
Duck, the wall is thick tile
Hail gun whumps thrice
Sit with me a while, scotch?
Skittles, petanca?
A toast, a toast, a toast,
Again another
Clink, click or clack, devta
Whirls again in dusk
The rush of twinkling quiet
Create, lighten, sustain
Om speech and breath
Hail gun that rocks a storm
Dissolve the hail, banish
Each approach of thunder
Ring the ghanta, enter
Cast aside wandering thoughts
Mark the conclusion
Om take that road
The bone-rattling path
To Tikkar Narayan
Use dipper at night
To distant clouded peaks
Green caps, middle land
The cadenced chants
The sun, the moon, fire
Rebirth from ash
Fragrant, nourishes, grows all
House from ruin
So may I be released, not reft
Man from despair
Stumble forward, these waves
Dissolve the hail
(2017)
Patrick was raised and educated mostly in Britain but lives and works mostly in Paris, with frequent visits to Rome. He has 30 years of published poetry and translations.
Patrick graduated from the University of East Anglia. His three decades of published poetry since include Beneficato (2015), Gifted (2014), Tiens ta langue/Hold your tongue (2014), Nel Santuario (2013) and Trois Rivières/Three Rivers (2010). He has translated, among others, Tunisian poet Tahar Bekri and Quebecois poet Gilles Cyr, and edited Quarante et un poètes de la Grande-Bretagne/Forty-One Poets of Great Britain (2003). Patrick has twice been an invited poet at the Festival International de Poésie at Trois-Rivières in Québec, and was editor and translator of The Parley Tree, French-speaking poetry from Africa and the Arab World (2012).
Handiwork
One created with all beauty, wonder and diversity,
One forces and powers against desire for life on earth;
One that moves like a fastball, breaks open old worlds,
One the poem par excellence, abrasive, with pace;
One to unearth new ways of being human, of human being
For what you see is only passing away
For what you cannot now see, but only imagine, is undying;
Once all the seas crossed our selves shall come singing,
One to see and speak truth amid falsity and fabrications,
One to hang the possible in front of the listeners,
Lead them to when they say, if it were true, I would do it
Being in earshot of poetic speech that dwells in us deeply,
That dares suggest there is a still more excellent way;
Ingest, chew on it a while, take it into your selves
in full measure,
Be heralds and harbingers, poems even,
Else what are we doing here?
Ouvrage
Un créé de toute beauté, toute merveille, toute diversité
Un forces dressées contre le désir de vie sur la terre ;
Un à la vitesse d’une balle lancée dans des mondes disparus,
Un le poème par excellence, caustique, en cadence ;
Un pour fouiller d’autres façons d’être humain, un être humain
Car ce que tu vois ne fais que passer
Car ce que tu ne vois pas maintenant et que tu imagines, ne meurt pas ;
Traversant les océans nous viendrons en chantant,
Un pour voir et dire le vrai entre le faux et le fabriqué,
Un pour donner le possible à ceux qui nous écoutent,
Les amener à dire, si c’était vrai, je le ferais
À l’écoute du poème au plus profond de nous,
Qui ose nous montrer une voie plus parfaite encore ;
Ingérer, mâcher ça un temps, l’introduire en nous totalement,
Être messagers, annonciateurs, poèmes même,
Ou bien à quoi bon être ici ?
(Traduction : Claude Held)
Opera delle sue mani
Uno creato in totale bellezza, meraviglia e varietà,
Uno forze e poteri contro il desiderio di vita sulla terra;
Uno in moto come una palla scagliata, sventra mondi passati,
Uno il poema par excellence, ruvido, sincopato;
Uno per portare alla luce altri modi di essere umani, dell’essere umano
Perché quel che vedi è soltanto svanire
Perché quello che ora non riesci a vedere, ma immagini solo, sta non-morendo;
Finché tutti i mari che hanno attraversato i nostri sé verranno cantando,
Uno per vedere e dire la verità fra le menzogne e le invenzioni,
Uno per mettere in mostra il possibile davanti agli ascoltatori,
Portarli sul punto in cui dicono, se fosse vero, lo farei
Tenersi a portata d’orecchio dal discorso poetico che alberga profondo in noi,
Che ancora osa proporre una via più eccellente;
Ingeritela, masticatela un poco, prendetela nel vostro sé,
in tutta la sua misura,
Siate araldi e precursori, poesie perfino,
Altrimenti che ci stiamo a fare qui?
(Traduzione : Guido Cupani)
This poem originally appeared in La Traductiere (No. 31, Poèmes que nous sommes/Our selves as poems) and was subsequently published in Tiens ta langue/Hold your tongue (Editions Harmattan, 2014), with the French translation by Claude Held. Italian translation by Guido Cupani (previously unpublished).