Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Here's the original poem material that I am attempting to mingle with 6 different languages (ENG, CHN, JPN, FRN, SPN, KRN)

Oh Poets, why sing of roses! Let them flower in your poems!
In the beginning was the Word.
The world is holy! The soul is holy!
The typewriter is holy the poem is holy the voice is holy!

Sing, O Orpheus! A tree grows in your ears
"Tree! You can be a canoe! Or else you cannot!"
Here are swim-stick words you can use to scare away sharks
The sound is spirited, green, and full of silence
The colors ripen on the weightless branch of time

A black, E white, I red, O blue, U green
A word sits on the kitchen counter
Let the house be dead silent
Today is the world-pregnant day of judgment
Everything only connected by 'and' and 'and.'

We are entitled to die the way we want to die.
Let the land hide in an ear of wheat.
This poetry, I never know what I'm going to say
It's the long story that never comes to an end.
To write into emptiness
It has always been this way.

The slightest pain hurts me, the slightest joy overwhelms
What you see here is colorful illusion...corpse, dust, shadow, nothing.
Only the poet sells his soul to separate it from the body that he loves
Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing.
The abyss doesn't divide us. The abyss surrounds us.