Wednesday, May 30, 2012


We could be on a journey
The hazy morning
Hanging over the river

Green ripples
Answering back

Is the sky a single
White cloud
Or a sheet of muslin
Waiting to be wet

I feel enclosed
Encased with people,
My reflections confined
By convention

The rocking of the train
Is the only comfort

What thoughts do all these people have
What dreams and fears and aspirations
Nobody knows

We all sit in our cocoons
Like patient
Perambulating moths


Laura Tattoo said...

i love this so much and it's so much how i feel. i'm going out tonight for the first time in awhile and i can already feel it.

reminded me of bashung's "noir de monde".

Stirling Davenport said...

Dear Laura, I went and read your marvelous translation of "noir de monde" and felt humbled by Bashung's cascade of words.

I'm so glad you resonated with mine.