Spring With a Thousand Clichés

by Gabriel Rosenstock

English version by Gabriel Rosenstock
Original Language Irish & English

Spring with a thousand clichés has arrived
Hafiz puts each one to work as though never employed before

Those swallows, for instance, he is their loopy flight
(Though ostensibly holding up a corner, eyes half closed)

Peach blossoms? He has taken on their scent
Oozing, literally, from every pore

All this without willing it to be so

Spring with a thousand clichés has arrived
And Hafiz, friskier than a kid goat, dozes outside a half-door

Lengthening days; he stretches his feet
Light trickles into the world. More more!

Somebody gives him a well-aimed kick. ÔDrunken useless poet!'
The heart of Hafiz bursts open, a rose

Without willing it to be so

Until there is no cliché left. Not a sight. Not a sound.
No doves moan

A breeze from the desert comes suddenly to a halt
Recognising home

A stork tidies her nest. Could that be -? Is that
Hafiz again, helping out with her annual chore?

All this, all this without willing it to be so

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