Winter Etudes / Vinteretuder

This sequence was published in Modern Haiku 43.2 Summer 2012. 

Impressions from Valdemossa, a former Carthusian charterhouse in Mallorca, where Frederick Chopin and George Sand and her children spent the winter of 1838-39. She hated it. I might add that Chopin suffered from TB.



WINTER ETUDES


Matins a D-minor chord while the coffee brews


almond flowers silent etudes for a skull


how this waltz grew mute and fifty mysteries on a chain


where The Book would have been rusty nibs and laudanum


moorish tiles all faces turned inwards


coughing roses in winter it's plausible


Prime a halfhearted mazurka and the mist the mist the mist


a faint spatter of blood it's nothing my dear


between the screams of pigs the sound of an angry pen


in Polish he longs for Paris Terce


it fades as we smoke the kids are outside


the piano sleeps praying they still walk the hallways


ivory kneeling for Sext in C-major


it's time but it's not a red bougainvillea and she slams the door


she is away the middle four octaves are ebony


this note tells about rain None


a notebook with corrections major to minor and back


just this word nocturne and a day has passed


Vespers as the winter settles in the lungs


lush valley the sunset enters his mouth


how many more breaths and scales Compline



--*--                                                      --*--



VINTERETUDER



Matutin en D-mol akkord mens kaffen brygger


mandelblomster stille etuder for en hovedskal


hvordan denne vals blev stum og halvtreds mysterier på en kæde


hvor Bogen ville have ligget rustne pennehoveder og laudanum


mauriske fliser alle ansigter vendt indad


hostende roser om vinteren det er tænkeligt


Prim en halvhjertet mazurka disen disen disen


et ubetydeligt blodigt sprøjt det' ingenting kære


mellem grisenes skrig lyden af en vred pen


på polsk længes han efter Paris Tertia


det falmer mens vi ryger børnene er udenfor


klaveret sover bedende går de stadig i gangene


elfenben knæler for Sext i C-dur


det er tid og ikke en rød bougainvillea og hun smækker med døren


hun er væk de midterste fire oktaver er ibenholt


denne node fortæller om regn Non


en nodebog med rettelser dur til mol og tilbage


blot dette ord nocturne og en dag er gået


Vesper mens vinter sætter sig i lungerne


overdådig dal solen går ned i hans mund


hvor mange flere åndedrag og skalaer Komplet


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