Echoes of a river. Digt af Richard W. Halperin. Inspireret af mit maleri: Tro & Trækfugle
Når maleri og poesi mødes, sker dette:
Echoes of a River
For Lene
I hear echoes of rivers. I may have
always heard them. Broad rivers,
narrow rivers, tributaries of rivers
led down to by stone steps going
right into the water for people to use
who punt in little boats.
Did I hear echoes of a river at birth?
I think I did. I think I still do.
Forget your troubles, Come on get happy –
Judy Garland, fedora tilted at a jaunty angle,
dancing all over a bright orange MGM soundstage –
We’re heading ’cross the river
Wash your sins away in the tide
It’s all so peaceful
On the other side.
I think Isaiah’s Suffering Servant
is a river. Not echoes. A river itself.
He takes on everyone’s suffering,
including mine. He is so repulsive
no one can bear to look at him.
He never says a word. He never says
a murmuring word.
Today my friend Lene sent me
the reproduction of a work in blue,
black, grey and white by Else Pia
Martinsen Erz: Geese, swans, women
and men who are refugees. All seen
from the back, trudging through shallow
puddles – a river? – toward a
wandering sea. Waiting for them,
a gigantic bird spreads its wings.
Above the bird, a small pale blue hole
in the sky. Small does not mean not there.
May I be ready for the river.
Richard W. Halperin
