Welcome to Day 2 of the September Open Write. If you have written with us before, welcome back. If you are joining us for the first time, you are in the kind, capable hands of today’s host, so just read the prompt below and then, when you are ready, write in the comment section below. We do ask that if you write, in the spirit of reciprocity, you respond to three or more writers. To learn more about the Open Write, click here.
Denise Krebs is a retired elementary educator, trying to learn Spanish and help Spanish-speaking English learners at the same time. In her spare time, she stays busy updating her home in the Mojave Desert, reading, writing, riding her fat tire bike electric bike on the sandy roads around her home and hills all over the area. She also watches sunrises and sunsets in the desert, and, the best job of all, being a new grammy to a sweet baby boy who lives too far away.
Inspiration
Duolingo is my inspiration today. I am a native (and only) English speaker, but now I’m trying to learn Spanish (which I didn’t succeed in doing in high school). When I lived in Bahrain, I tried to learn Arabic, but for the most part, Arabic speakers were much better at English than most of us were with Arabic. Even with so little proficiency in other languages, though, I have found I still enjoy trying some words in other languages in poetry.
Some people who know more than one language can write poems in multiple languages. One of my favorite bilingual poets is Britt Decker who has written beautiful poetry here in this space. Enjoy her poem, “En La Cocina.”
En La Cocina
By Britt Decker
the kitchen taunts me,
the ladles, the pans, the pots.
I refuse to tell a story,
listen to a story
while the water scolds me
while the sauce splatters me
while seasonings spit at me
“What does the recipe SAY?”
“How many minutes?”
“What’s a simmer?”
but las mujeres.
Mi abuela y mi tía y mi mami –
love and heal and pass wisdom
through the searing heat of caldo de pollo
in the warmth of tacos de papa con huevo
es un baile en la cocina
for the women
while the water listens to mi abuela
while the sauce submits to mi tía
while the seasonings seek to be cared for
by mi mami
the way I, too, listen and submit and seek
to be cared for
and loved
and held
and healed
by the ancestral wisdom
that holds us together
en la cocina
Source: https://multifacetedmusings.com/2022/03/19/solsc22-en-la-cocina/
Process
Write a free-verse poem, or any form you have on your mind. Try one of these ideas to get another language into your own:
- Add one or more words to your poem from another language. You know French, Spanish, and Latin words that have become adopted into English. Here is a list of 15 interesting words that we already use in English, like ipso facto, ad nauseum, bon voyage, bona fide, carte blanche, and prima donna. https://www.brainscape.com/academy/foreign-words-used-english/
- Write a poem about one of these fantastic words that can’t be translated into English. Here are some images from the beautiful book Lost in Translation by Ella Frances Sanders: https://www.buzzfeed.com/alannaokun/16-fantastic-words-that-cant-be-translated-into-english
- If you are multilingual, choose two languages to combine words and phrases into a poem. Even if you aren’t bilingual, you can still attempt a two-language poem, using Google Translate to help. (Try translating single words and short phrases.)
As always, you are free to write anything you would like in any language you wish.
Denise’s Poem
My first attempt was a haiku about my favorite spoon:
Siempre todo
Cuchara favorita
Comida mejor
Another poem was about saying goodbye to Bahrain, my Arabic-speaking home for eight years. (I did learn a few Arabic words.)
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
What a REALLY fun poetry idea. How have I never thought to combine the languages I know.
“Wanna”
by Amber Harrison
I want wholly —
something else
something different
something more.
I want wholly —
gardening,
knitting,
exercising,
painting,
reading,
writing,
exploring,
mothering,
eating,
organizing,
traveling,
adventuring.
I wanna wonder
I wanna wander.
Wunder und wander.
I WANT THIS TOO! Well, maybe not the knitting, but I’ll swap that for sewing, and you have just described my perfect life. Funny how the job doesn’t figure into that… ; ) Thank you for the smile, Amber. I’m going to be saying “wunder und wander” all day now!
Amber, I loved this! It’s, dare I say, wunderbar! (Your long list of participles is great. Each of these “-ing”s encompass so much.) Thank you for writing and sharing this!
Amber, ditto, what Amber said. Beautiful and fun to dream about what we want wholly! The wunder, wander, wonder add an additional tongue twister. Thank you for sharing.
Amber,
I wanna wander too! I love this.
Thank you so much, Denise! I’m sorry to be late, but I’m here having fun!
When Hello is All You Know
Hola!
Ni hao!
Ahlan!
Dzień dobry!
Hallo!
Dobroe utro!
I know in many languages
how to say Hello!
and that’s as far as it goes
except in a few
how to ask for beer
and the bathroom
I am not wordly wise
but have learned
this one word
can be a passport
to a smile
to a conversation
I never remember
any of the other words
my new friends then
try to teach me
I found the one that works
the one that matters most
Denise, I agree! Hello and a smile can take you far. (I also really like your use of “passport” in stanza three!)
When you wrote the list of how to say hello in different languages it reminded me of all my travels abroad. You’re so right! It’s a gateway to human connection. And I also resonate with the line of not being able to go any further than the hello. It’s sort of frustrating to me, but I like how you bring the positivity about it to light…that it’s definitely best to know at least how to say hello to brighten the mood, rather than not being able to say anything at all.
Denise, how sweet and clever! I love your poem and sentiment. Love, love this:
It reminds me of my husband who worked really hard when we lived in Bahrain to say thank you in many languages, as there were expatriates from 120+ countries who often served us in restaurants and stores.
Thank you for the opportunity to dust off some Spanish that I studied in high school and college. I’m so shy at speaking and haven’t practiced a whole lot since!
Hypocrite
I ask students to have confidence
to read, speak, and write in a second language for me.
Aunque entiendo español,
es como no puedo
producir sonidos
cuando me preguntan
hacer lo mismo.
I know I could
if I believed in myself
and learned from
mistakes
like I ask
of them.
Rachelle, good for you, pushing yourself, which will give you more umph to push your students. I hope you will share this with them! Love those last two lines.
Rachelle,
I feel you so much on this! Even though I am getting better, it is hard and I have to think about every word still. I can’t imagine trying to write an essay–it would take forever. I love the honesty and the two mirror stanzas at the end.
Nicely captured here. I know we teachers say we put ourselves in our students’ shoes when we ourselves are students, but I don’t think it’s the same when we have developed such a strong love for learning and the risk-taking that involves, and our students – well, many have not yet, and by the time they get to me in college, that love is often times so damaged. There is a gentleness we all must express toward our vulnerable learners, a compassion, a grace. This poem captures that. Connects our humanness.
Yep, Rachelle! I’m with you on this. (This is the same “vibe” as having students write essays when we ourselves haven’t written them. When we don’t “write beside them” then we fall into the trap of having them “experience” the process when we haven’t — recently — experienced the process ourselves.) Thank you for writing and sharing this!
Denise, you’ve challenged me today! I don’t have the capacity to write something new today, but I do have a poem from my erotic collection that has some Spanish in it. Here’s a stanza, a very steamy stanza from my poem Submit.
?
My towel falls freeing lascivious intentions
stepping into his slippery sauna
I push him back,
“Don’t move, Franco.
Stand against the wall
Keep your hands up.
I will do all the touching
you will do all the feeling.”
Y acabaremos juntos
“and we will
come together.”
© Stacey L. Joy, 2013
Steamy, Stacey! ?
Yes, steamy, indeed. I never knew you had an erotic collection. 🙂 Beautiful!
Love these lines:
Stacey,
Wow! Very sexy! The brevity is powerful.
Wooo! Steamy, indeed!
Ah – but that last line is lovely. The physical, but also the joining of souls, of something deeper within our beings. I just responded the same way to Rachelle’s poem, connecting in ways that make us human. Maybe it’s a theme today! But, sure – also just pure, raw sex. Could go either way!
To lose
to lose
someone
is grief,
regret,
guilt,
anger,
disbelief
one tiny piece
of my heart
I fell in love with
in 11 weeks
then lost
to lose
失去
perder
何かを失う
A beautiful tribute— sending hugs and love to you ❤️
Oh, Emily, this is touching and beautiful. I’m so sorry for your loss. Peace
🙁
Of all the other words in here that carry so much heavy weight caused by loss, ending on the verb “to lose” almost makes it seem like resignation and perhaps closure. It’s also a verb – isn’t it? Some THING can be lost and permanent in that absence. But others – not things but feelings – remain in process. Remain in some way until they finalize over time. Or we act to finalize them. Beautiful.
Emily,
Gosh, this poem hits hard. I will check on you. My mind went a million places.
Hugs and prayers for your comfort!
Denise,
Another wonderful prompt! I so admire your worldiness.
Uni-Lingual
I wish I was bilingual
It shows such flexibility of the brain,
and ability to communicate with others,
and a respect for different cultures.
I took French in high school.
Living in a town exploding
with Spanish speakers was decades
in my future.
I wanted the humanities credit
and the teacher was my volleyball coach.
“Oui, j’habite a Abidjan”
still sticks in my head for its beauty to the ear.
and
“Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir”
still does for its orneriness.
My world was so small.
It still is in many ways.
My brain definitely loves words
and their use and their beauty.
And my heart loves to know
and understand people
and their wants and needs.
I should learn Spanish so I can
communicate with so many around me.
Or German since it’s the language
of the founders of our town.
Maybe I will learn Italian,
inspiring me to visit the country
of my dreams.
Instead, I think I’ll just continue
to relish in English
reading it and writing it and thinking it
letting my brain continue to fill
with thoughts and dreams and ponders
of my small little world.
~Susan Ahlbrand
18 September 2022
Susan, I love, love, love this! I wish I was bilingual too. I cracked up at
“Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir” still does for its orneriness.”your I should’ve learned Spanish. I express the same sentiments. I think I will once I’m a retired librarian. I also want to learn ASL. One day, too. Thank you for sharing.
Susan, thank you for sharing this–so many thoughts and feelings about language learning. I’m definitely mostly English, that’s for sure. Though, Spanish is prevalent in my town too, so I am able to find people to practice with. I love the two French sentences you remember. I listened to them spoken on Google Translate. I laughed when I saw the translation of the “ornery” sentence!
I seriously just had to go look up that song and listen to it to get it out of my head! What a trip back in time! Sigh. Yes – I feel this same lament. I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t know another language – despite all the dabbling through the years. But that final stanza – that was the hug I needed. I’m down with that! Thank you, Susan!
Denise, I took French in junior high and in high school. Not much stayed in my long term memory. No one liked the Spanish teacher so I took the high road. So thank you for the links. I’ve never thought about writing about a favorite utensil, but now ther I think of it, my mama did have a favorite fork. Thank you for the memory because she’s moved three times since then and I wonder if she still has it. My mind wandered, so this is what came to mind:
PSA
In a world where we shun those who commit
a minor faux pas and are ostracized to oblivion,
How about we embrace mistakes and
ignore those who consider you a prima donna.
They don’t know what it means to be confident.
You’re a bona fide certified You
And no one can take that away.
I love the common foreign phrases worked into your poem, Jessica. I like a bona fide certified You.
That’s the vest I could do Mo, thank you! ?
<SIGH> trying to type without corrective lenses and autocorrect! ??♀️
Jessica, I hope she still has her favorite fork! My favorite spoon broke, and I had to throw it out. Now I have a favorite fork! Haha!
Nice job with your PSA! “ostracized to oblivion” is a great phrase
My favorite:
I’m not sure Denise. I haven’t been to her new house to investigate, lol. I’m sorry about your spoon, RIP. But oh you’ve found a great replacement! And thank you for your kind words! I’m slowly coming back.
Jessica,
It is amazing how much we borrow from other languages! Nice integration of terms we think we own. I try and remind myself that if someone is trying to speak English, they already have a native language they master–they’re multilingual–which is a grand achievement.
“Terms we think we own.” Love it Cara! And your statement is such a revelation! Eureka! Thank you for that.
No Stamina
Oh, how I wanted
to speak in el espanol!
No el aguante!
Girl! It’s not too late! With your word skills I’m sure you’d pick it up in no time. Find a friend to talk to you in Spanish sobre café.
Me too! Maybe one day….and I tried to do a haiku. Thank you for this! I guess no effort on my part. I blame tiredness.
Donnetta, thanks for your poem! Stamina is needed, isn’t it? I’m always surprised to hear people who used to know a language, but now they are so out-of-practice, it’s like they never knew how. It is a mystery. Will we ever have enough aguante? I like Mo’s suggestion!
When the pandemic started,
we thought we’d just have a long spring break,
a week or two extra and then return to normal.
My sons and I fell into summer style boredom–
no homework and no teaching for me,
and going out was discouraged and scary,
so when my son started on Duolingo,
I thought, why not?
I’ve always wished I understood Spanish–
I have so many Latino students.
Ahora, novecientos doce dias después,
entiendo mucho mas que antes.
I still have to think before speaking,
but I can understand others, especially in print.
Estoy agradecida por el lado positivo
de un par de años difíciles.
Que bueno, Cara! I think you found just the right phrases to weave into this poem while recognizing the why. I feel the compassion and now empathy as you step into the many ways we language.
Paz,
Sarah
¡Felicitaciones, Cara! Ed in gran logro. Me gusta mucho que tú ves el positivo.
*autocorrect! Es un
Beautiful narration and I could follow along pretty well in both languages ? I’m not surprised you have such a high streak!! Holy smokes! Thanks for this poem about finding light and motivation in dark times
Novecientos doce dias! Muy bueno, Cara! Yo tengo cuatrocientos cincuenta y tres.
Good for you finding silver linings in those pandemic years. This was a really valuable one. I would not be able to write as much as you did in Spanish. Bravo!
If two Italians were walking
on one side of the road and
saw something appealing on the
other side,
one would say “attraversiamo.”
“Let’s cross over,” a lyrical way
to speak of movement
of a readiness to –.
If two teachers were talking
on one side of the hallway and
saw something appealing on the
other side,
what would they see for
one to say “attraversiamo”?
A gentle call for all to look for
something appealing on the
other side and say
“attraversiamo.”
Yes, let’s.
Oh, yes. Let’s. This made me smile in recognition of those moments that make teaching so wonderful! Thank you for this moment of attraversiamo!
I’m smiling because as you know, since you read my poem, I’m starting to learn Italian. You make me think of all the wonderful words to come!
A simple scenario with a captivating twist! “what would they see for
one to say “attraversiamo”? Possibly student artwork or an interesting flyer. Not a memo about the faculty meeting after school…that could’ve been an email. ? Two teachers chatting in the hall seen in a positive light. Thank you for sharing Sarah!
Oh, Sarah, I want to learn that new word and use it! That’s my goal for this week. “attraversiamo” What a beautiful and subtle public service announcement. “A gentle call for all to look…” So lovely! Yes, let’s “look for something appealing on the other side”
Hello Denise! Being a fellow duo linguist, I had to try today’s prompt. My poem needs lots of work but the narrative is self-explanatory. I loved the simple grace of your two waters warmth and sweet-home hope. Thank you for this prompt and good luck with duolingo!
It’s not that I’ve not tried before—
ALM chapter one, easily memorized.
Hola Isabella como estas?
When I got lost at the bibliotheca
I switched to German.
Mein Plattenspieler ist kaputt!
It did not go well.
Perhaps if my high school offered Italian,
I’d have been more motivated.
I’d have liked to talk to the small silent
woman always hunched
in the same tired chair
by the open tenement window,
ragged clothes flying on the line outside.
Were you scared? I’d have asked.
Just 16 when you arrived, knowing only
the Sicilian of my ancestors,
what a later teacher called butchered Italian.
Is that why you stopped learning?
Did someone make fun of your broken English?
Your poor clothes? What careless cruelty
locked you in your own language,
forever a stranger in this strange new world?
When we brought my son home from Kazakstan,
Cyrillic was the mountain I could not pass,
so I put the books away, and concentrated instead
on the universal language of love.
Then there was an invasion. A war. A young mother
child in arms, child clutching her skirt.
A heartbroken-Ukrainian
speaking in heart-broken English,
If I should ever meet you, how could I tell you
how sorry I am? How can I honor you?
A green owl shows me how. Believes in me.
Encourages me to keep trying.
Привіт, мій друже. Бажаю вам миру!
Hello my friend. Wishing you peace!
Ann,
I so appreciate the shifting from “I” in the first few stanzas to the different “you’s” in scenes from your life that you shared with others while not “othering” in your wish to “honor” and commitment to “keep trying.”
Peace,
Sarah
This story, this narrative, this poem. I have read it multiple times now and each time it grows richer. Thank you!
Ann,
Wow, what a narrative. This is beautifully-told with enough details to help us know and to tear up at the end. Wonderful, and that is amazing that you are studying Ukrainian. More power to you. Look at that alphabet!
I like this line: “A green owl shows me how. Believes in me.” Sometimes Duo even does say, “I believe in you.” It will be more meaningful the next time I see it!
P.S. One of the best words I’ve learned today is plattenspieler. What a perfect word for a record player. Mein Plattenspieler ist kaputt!
A Nightmare Wedding on the Amalfi Coast
By Mo Daley 9/18/22
I am counting the days until the fairytale June wedding
on the Amalfi Coast, a place that I’ve never visited,
but often dreamt of.
The bride is an earthen goddess,
the groom is a Milanese charmer—
their love bringing worlds together.
Ich spreche ein bisschen Deutsch,
je parle un petit peu franҫes,
mi español es passable, pero
I DON’T SPEAK A WORD OF ITALIAN!
And now, after two lessons of Duolingo under my belt,
I’m convinced that when the officiant asks,
“Qualcuno si oppone a questo matrimonio?”
I will rise and unwillingly shout with gusto all I know,
“Un cornetto, per favore!”
Love this! The Amalfi coast is beautiful and so are the croissants 😉 though I think if you take a few more lessons, you’ll be able the coast is molto bello! Enjoy!
Mo,
I love how you are so good at this humorous, clever shift at the end of a poem. You always make me smile (okay, sometimes you make me tear-up), but this is so good, “I will rise…”
Peace,
Sarah
I love this! And I am so envious that you have this adventure ahead of you!! (Just combine all those languages-no one will understand you, but their confusion will be worth it!)
Mo, what fun! You are a language learner, to be sure. I love the conclusion of the poem, after two lessons. I remember I wrote a sonnet once about the beginning lessons of Duolingo. At the point I wrote it, I felt the only thing I learned was looking for a cheap or expensive dress and asking for a table for two: https://mrsdkrebs.edublogs.org/2021/07/23/poetry-friday-a-striving-spanish-sonnet/
I love the description of the bride and groom, and it makes me want to know more about this fairy tale wedding.
Here’s to many more lessons before the wedding!! I know you will dare to use it too!
Be Encouraged
Akwaaba my friends
You are always welcome here
Maakye, shine again
The bright sun shines here
Ɛnnɛ we will do our best
Maakye, bloom again
One step up, we move
Until we achieve it all
Ɛnnɛ do your best.
Translation
Twi- Akan language spoken in Ghana
Akwaaba– Welcome
Maakye- Good morning
Ɛnnɛ – Today
Thank you Denise for the opportunity to write words in my language. Inspired by your Haiku I have written three. My friends and I speak our local languages, although English is the official language here, in Ghana. We tend to select phrases or expressions in the language that does justice to whatever we are trying to say, inserting words throughout our conversation.
Juliette,
I love the use of your native language in this poem. Thank you for the translation. Your poem is so encouraging. I love how welcoming and inviting each stanza is written.
Juliette, akwaaba is one of the few Twi words I know, so I was pulled in immediately. Your poem feels like a hug. Medasse.
Mo I am really excited about your familiarity with Twi. I always tell people it is an easy language to learn however, I am not so eloquent with the written version . I had to seek the dictionary for the spelling of Ɛnnɛ .
Oh, Juliette, these are so beautiful! Thank you for sharing in your own language. May I ask the name of the language in which you wrote these special words?
I like the repetition in you haikus of today doing our/your best. A lovely reminder.
This is my favorite line:
Denise, you inspire me again! While I don’t know any Arabic I was moved by your verse. The emotion of that poem rose above any language barrier.
What I first thought was impossible yielded a moving poem for me too. I decided to center my poem around my visit to Haiti in 2018 choosing the Haitian phrase “Dèyè mòn gen mòn.” Dèyè mòn gen mòn” is the most common saying in Haiti meaning behind the mountain there are mountains. Many translate this to mean behind this difficulty there will be more and life is always full of trials.
Dèyè Mòn, Gen Mòn
We climb a treacherous
path to visit the peoples
of Bellevue
promises of arriving
at the top
around every corner
Dèyè mòn gen mòn
Overcome with intense
tropical heat
we stumble over rises
past the cow paths
with a few peeks of views
and more peaks ahead
Dèyè mòn gen mòn
The delighted children
greet us as we neared
a crack of the machetes
open the just picked
coconuts
providing refreshment
and relief
Dèyè mòn gen mòn
The elders arise
and translators explain
“we are tired and are sorry
we have not completed
the chapel you funded”
tears fall from the
leader’s eyes
Dèyè mòn gen mòn
“We will overcome
our tiredness
and once again
carry block after
concrete block
up the mountain pass
to finish this
church”
Dèyè mòn gen mòn
I sit in awe
tears welling up
These people of no means
yet determined
resolved
committed
to building a house
of worship
50 pounds at a time
Dèyè mòn gen mòn
Christine, this is such a gorgeous poem, yes, truly, “moving,” as you wrote – I feel as if I visited Haiti through your words. What a beautiful verse to close out each stanza, “Dèyè mòn gen mòn” – and I love how you bring its meaning to fullness and life. I got a special kick out of the coupling of “peek” and “peak” in two neighboring lines. There is so much for each of us to learn from the words of the elders –
Such perseverance! Thank you for this.
This is stunning, Christine. You’ve created such beautiful imagery, but the emotions behind the images really spoke to me.
Christine, yes, indeed, this is a moving poem. I love the repetition of “Dèyè mòn gen mòn.” The meaning of this common phrase is poignant. You have told a beautiful story here.
These are such clever lines:
Denise, I love your poem and its gorgeous repetition of hyphenated adjectives – here-to-there, teary-faced, hug-full, two-waters, sweet-hope, whispers-from-God, life-drenched…just lovely. remember that beautiful poem by Britt – lovely to read it again.
My poem is a far cry from bilingual, but I immediately thought of a language issue that I have wrestled with since my first grandchild was born four years ago…
we are one
we met you when they dated
we became family when they married
we are forever connected by
these two dear little ones
we are each and all
grandparents
in Spanish we’d be
consuegros
in Yiddish we’d be
machatunim
in Greek we’d be
sympatheroi
yet the English language fails us
you are the parents of my daughter-in-law
you are my son’s in-laws
you are the other grandparents
you are my fellow grandparents
you are the co-parents-in-law
all of which
belies confuses masks
stumbles and separates
imparts that we are not one
when we are
may I suggest
we are grandmates
These two dear little ones…what a beautiful world they created ~ and what a beautiful word YOU created! Just lovely!
I needed that phrase! I, too, am trying to solve the conundrum of grand-identity, also in two different cultures! Grandmates. Perfection…
I love this idea, Maureen. Sometimes I’m amazed at the words we don’t have in English.
What a lovely idea! “grandmates” I’m going to suggest that for my daughter’s in-laws. 🙂
Yes, our English words are all that. I agree with your suggestion.
Denise, thanks for the opportunity to reflect on a time when I was the “outsider” during a teacher exchange to East African countries of Kenya, Uganda, and Mauritius, in a program sponsored by Rotary International. Though most spoke some English, our team was asked to learn a short speech in Kiswahili. I did, but…
If Only
Habari rafiki yangu
Swahili for “Hello, my friend.”
Unafanyaje is “How do you do?”
In Swahili, a phrase that was good to know.
For a teacher exchange to the East African coast
An honor for me, for which I now boast,
Our team was asked to learn some greetings
To honor hosts in urban and rural town meetings.
This phonetic language was easy to speak
But tough to understand; each tribe has its own dialect
I could only say the words, but not speak with speed.
And a little speed was the current need.
It was more than just knowing the words.
I probably sounded absolutely absurd!
You see, many hosts saw my brown skin
And assumed I was from their country.
Oh, how I wanted to fit in.
Yes, the people were patient and glad I had tried.
Some may have said, “You’ll soon be fluent!” I nearly cried.
“Asante sana” is what I did say,
“Thank you very much.”
And to this very day,
Some of the friends I made way back then,
I continue to stay in touch.
As teachers we often ask our students to at least try! Your trying appears to have made a difference even to this day. I love the hope exuding from your words
I have felt this same sensation when I stumble my way through words in a new language –
It’s as if the mind is in two places, it can be so overwhelming. I love the ‘layout’ of your poem – how it begins with the Swahili “Hello, my friend,” then shares the story of your language struggles, and concludes with the beautiful, ““Asante sana.”
Anna, what your piece shares is how language, even a little, shares an acceptance. You share how,
‘Our team was asked to learn some greetings
To honor hosts in urban and rural town meetings.’
I am connecting this to how at International schools, as part of our Listening Circles we greet each other in our local languages. This is a special event as it really motivates Elementary students.
‘Yes, the people were patient and glad I had tried.
Some may have said, “You’ll soon be fluent!” I nearly cried.
“Asante sana” is what I did say,
“Thank you very much.”
Juliette, may I share this Listening Circle greeting practice with my group here in Michigan? This greeting others in one’s heart language is a culture-honoring practice. Doing this will help each in the circle “learn” greetings in another language that may come in handy someday!
Anna, what a testimony that you are still in contact with those friends from long ago.
I love these lines:
And your heartfelt: “Asante sana”
You have conveyed this story so well in your signature verse. Beautiful!
First Step
“Me llamo Susanna,” I say
“I call myself Susan”
and touch my chest.
I then point to him and ask
“What’s your name?”
though I’ve already guessed.
I get a look of confusion.
A few more times I try.
“Me llamo Susanna.”
I am Susan. I sigh.
“Que es su nombre?”
Again silence and a quizical look.
“Me nombre is Susanna. What is your name?”
Then across his face
comes a look of suprise
I can see in his eyes
and he says
“Miguel.”
Love this. That aha moment! Must’ve been rewarding to teach this.
Oh, the nuances of language! It can feel like such a revelation when understanding is finally achieved – as you capture so poetically here. Just lovely!
This is beautiful Susan. When you are not expected to be speaking a language and you do, it’s such a shock to the listeners.
“Again silence and a quizical look.”
I can relate to this, sometimes I speak my basic French to my students and they look up in such surprise. As they expect me to be speaking English to them.
As I read the repetition in the poem, I thought it would end with you speaking the wrong language or the receiver actually being able to understand English. I love how the repetition ends up in understanding/comprehension. My favorite lines, “Then across his face comes a look of surprise.”
Susan, I love your recounting of this exchange. I like your courage and persistence, your willingness to keep on trying to communicate.
I don’t know if this is intentional or unintentional rhyming, but it’s lovely:
I love the simple, yet profound ending. So beautiful!
Let my words
play upon your skin
full bodied
pressing firmly
(a measured
pressure)
rubbing,
gently
kneading
your flesh
let them
anticipate
and perpetuate
to help
facilitate
and articulate
(to gravitate
and punctuate)
what you need
let them be
what you
need them to be
today
right now
in this moment
to comfort
and soothe
to excite
and perfuse
these words
packed full
(brimming with
consonants
and vowels)
into your body
your mind and
heart and please
let them
reciprocate
again
and again
and again
until you
are sated
exhausted
and,
perhaps,
a bit, happily
bemused.
_______________________
Lassen Sie meine Worte
spielen auf deiner Haut
vollmundig
fest drücken
(ein gemessen
Druck)
Reiben,
sanft
kneten
dein Fleisch
lass sie
antizipieren
und verewigen
helfen
erleichtern
und artikulieren
(anziehen
und Satzzeichen)
was du brauchst
Lass sie sein
was du
brauchen sie zu sein
heute
im Augenblick
in diesem Moment
troesten
und beruhigen
zu begeistern
und perfundieren
diese Worte
vollgepackt
(randvoll mit
Konsonanten
und Vokale)
in deinen Körper
dein Verstand und
Herz und bitte
lass sie
erwidern
wieder
und wieder
und wieder
bis du
sind satt
erschöpft
und,
vielleicht,
ein bisschen glücklich
verwirrt.
________________________________
Leave my words
play on your skin
full-bodied
press hard
(a measured
print)
rub,
soft
knead
your flesh
let her
anticipate
and perpetuate
help
facilitate
and articulate
(put on
and punctuation)
what you need
let her be
what you
they need to be
today
at the moment
at this moment
console
and calm down
to inspire
and perfuse
these words
packed
(brimming with
consonants
and vowels)
into your body
your mind and
heart and please
let her
reply
again
and again
and again
are you
are fed up
exhausted
and,
perhaps,
a little bit happy
confused.
_______________________________
Thank you, Denise! This was fun. When I read your first poem (after having “run it through Google translate”), I thought, why don’t I have a favorite spoon! It really would make the food taste better. And I loved loved “Life-drenched Promise” in your second piece. (Also thank you for reminding me of Britt Decker’s poem – it’s so good!) In terms of your prompt, I was forced to confront my own bilingualness (or lack thereof). Lol. Having four years of German in high school and thirty plus credits in college (having passed the minor test so that I could legally teach it at the secondary level), I’m hesitant to admit that – at this moment – I “know” very little German. What I can confidently recall – at the moment – is the single phrase, “Ich habe einen bleistift” which is “I have a pencil.” I decided to write my poem in English, send it through Google’s translation feature into German, and then send it back through into English. And I can, honestly, say that I am, indeed, “a little bit happy / confused.”
This poem feels like a blessing to me to make my poetic words be what I need them to be at this moment. Thanks.
What a beautiful and sense-filled poem. Loved the marriage of language and sensuality — such a cool direction to take this in!
I love the re-translate Al lst as much as the original! Wish I had thought of that!
Oh, Scott, this is amazing! I want to do this kind of translation poem sometime. The first one is just a magical journey of wonderfulness:
I’ve read the poem several times now, and I’m feeling this and more! The rhyming is spectacular. The German, I must admit I didn’t read. I wonder how grammatically correct it is. The third rendition, however, had me giggling several times throughout. It was fascinating to see how much was lost in translation–
I love that the words have become “her”
and
Oh, my! Such fun!
Denise,
I love this prompt—and yesterday’s, which I, sadly, did not get a chance to write but will later. Britt’s poem is gorgeous, as are your poems. One of my favorite code-switching poems is “Bilingual/Bilingue.” I’m leaving a link here and hoping to return and post later.https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46542/bilingual-bilingue
Glenda, thank you for the link to Espaillat’s poem! In appreciation, I’ll share another link. Here’s a video of Denice Frohman reciting her poem “Accents.” Give it a listen! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtOXiNx4jgQ
Oh, yes, I’m enjoying reading everyone’s poems today, as well as enjoying these rich resources. Thanks so much for Frohman’s poem. I cried watching it.
Glenda, thank you so much for sharing Rhina Espaillat’s poem. It is so powerful, and I appreciate your posting it here. I hope I’ll see you tomorrow!
Denise, I loved this challenge and the poems you shared. How interesting that using another language in a poem adds a certain flavor or flair to enhance the feel of it. Mine is about my favorite place where I get to visit in May. Throughout Covid I met many friends there through a walking group on Facebook. Im going to meet up with these ladies. We instantly became kindred spirits and helped one another through difficult times.
Back to Me Other Home
In the land where faeries dwell
And all is patchwork green
I fell in love with towns like Doolin,
Cork, and Skiberdeen.
‘Twas Céad Míle Fáilte,
Your kindness and great craic
Your brown bread and the black stuff
Are calling me, “Come back!”
I miss the reels and ballads
The buskers in the street,
The bodhran and the pipers,
The clapping to the beat.
And walking through the graveyards
I felt my ancient kin,
my heart, my anam cara
As one, just me and them.
And soon I will return
To drink my cúpan tae
With mates like Kim and Breda,
Dear Cath and Mary B.
With Bridget and her Mister
We’ll traipse through Aul’ Kilkenny,
Then fly away from Dublin
Goodbye again, “Ha’Penny”.
Oh this is wonderful, Nancy. You share your longing and your learning from our ancestral land. Well done.
Nancy, this poem, with the Irish words, helps us “hear” what you experienced visiting your “other home. Having watched so many movies with Irish speakers, I also recall some of the scenes I’d seen of Ireland. So, your poem has done double duty! My husband’s family is from Ireland, too. But, too far back for us to know anyone there now. You may know that Roseborough (the original spelling of his family name) is a region of Leinster. Some of the family stills spells the name that way. Others have dropped the “ugh.” Oh well. 🙂
Thanks.
Nancy, I loved this! The ballad form was so appropriate to the meaning, and I loved reading about your treasured memories and fond hopes for the future. Great poem!
Oh, Nancy, what an amazing treat! Do I understand correctly that you met them on a virtual walking group on Facebook, but now you will actually travel to Ireland in May to meet them in person?? Oh, my goodness!
You have woven the Irish throughout your poem seamlessly. It’s so lovely. Do you already speak Irish?
Love these lines:
I hope you will share this poem with your mates!
Yes. That’s right, Denise! We bonded through walking, sharing our photos and our lives during Covid. I can’t believe I’ll meet them all in person! Thanks for the compliment and your wonderful prompts! (I have already shared this with them today and they loved it!)
Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. Have a blessed time in Ireland!! Yay!
Chinese Immersion
Kindergarten challenge –
My daughter will learn Chinese.
I give it a try …
我爱我的女儿。
We practice with the foods we eat and the drinks we drink…
冰淇淋 – ice cream
苹果 – apple
水 – water
苹果汁 – Apple juice
We practice with the people we love…
妈妈 – mom
爸爸 – dad
朋友 – friend
我 practice with Duolingo
我爱我的女儿。
I love my daughter.
Jennifer Kowaczek September 2022
Thank you, Denise, for this challenge as it got me to explore how to type in Chinese. Duolingo is a fantastic way to learn a language. My daughter is now in 8th grade and doing very well with her Chinese. I consulted her for help with some of the Chinese characters (it’s hard to see the small characters with my 50 year old eyes); she called me “cringy” when she read through this poem, I’m just grateful she was patient in helping me.
Jennifer thanks for sharing Chinese words for food and words we know. It is so artistic. I have many questions about the letters and words. I guess that will be my research to carry out.
Jennifer, your poem and comments remind us of the value of respecting our children’s knowledge! My daughter has been helping me with tech stuff, and I’m so glad what she’s teaching me makes me “look good” when I work with clients. If they only knew!!!!
Jennifer, I loved the look of the Chinese symbols in this poem: so elegant and precise. Lovely. 🙂
Wow, what a miracle that students can learn Mandarin in an immersion school. I know I have heard of that, but this is as much as I’ve seen about it. I’m so impressed that your daughter is doing well. That is so great!
The ending says it all:
Yes, you do, and it shows that you are taking such care with her learning, and learning it yourself as a result. Beautiful (not cringy)!
Denise, I am so moved by your beautiful poetry. Absolutely adore “drenched Promise.” Such a powerful end. Once again, thank your for hosting today:)
Learning to Say I Love You
Ich liebe du,
I whisper the words;
practicing until they roll
sweet as honey from my tongue.
My tall bespeckled German teacher,
patient; wise,
understood the power of
love language.
He could see right through me.
Liebst du mich?
Barb Edler
18 September 2022
Barb, those teacher crushes are a real thing! I love your lead-in, learning to say the words, and the set up for how we see your feelings, right to that question at the end…..the one we have all wondered of a tall teacher a time or two! 🙂 Love this!
Barb, this is so sweet! Succinct and tasty: such a little gem of a poem recalling innocence and young years. Loved it!
Barb—Ich liebe this poem! So innocent, so sweet. So real…
Oh my! I was so drawn in to your words and could feel the true feelings behind your attempts at speaking in German. Swoon
Oh, Barb – this poem touches my heart…haven’t we all, at some point, been there…
Barb, what a sweet poem you wrote. This is so precious! It shows the tenderness of the student “I whisper the words” / teacher (patient, wise) relationship.
“they roll / sweet as honey from my tongue”
“He could see right through me.”
Denise, once again, you gifted me with the opportunity to process some fun memories!
Visits with Grandma
A formica dining table and
My coffee thick with cream
A visit to my Grandma’s:
Toast-with-peanut-butter dream.
And while I happily breakfasted
On home-forbidden fruit
I listened to my Grandma
And her Polish sisters hoot.
On spiral-corded lifelines,
With wild rotary dials,
They took some time from life
To reconnect for just a while.
And though her voice was soothing
And her presence was a balm,
Conversation with her sisters
Was often far from calm.
“Oh, matka!!” she would soon exclaim
And, giving me a glance,
Would soon begin to guard my ears:
An old, familiar dance.
An unfamiliar cadence
And unfamiliar words
Would guarantee she’d shield me
From what her sisters heard.
“Dupa” was a word that stuck
From these familiar times
As she and sis dissected
The more inoffensive crimes
Of family members who they gave
The brunt of all their ire
A “chuj” was one; a “swinia”, two
(The rest…just don’t inquire…)
And some of them I simply, now,
Recall phonetically
And their meaning, still today,
Remains a mystery to me.
But comforting are memories
Of sitting at that table
Coffee drinking, breakfast munching
Listening to labels
For mystery family members
Under mystery Polish names
And now these conversations
Are my Grandma’s claim to fame.
So, do beware of what you say
In presence of young birds.
And know that, years from now…
We imbibed the juicy words.
Wendy, wow! What a poem to belt out this morning–the rhyming quatrains and the story they tell. So sweet! I love the last line “we imbibed the juicy words” I like the warning in the last stanza. Brava! Well done!
Wendy, I hung on every.word.you.wrote here – the rhyme scheme is fabulous, but the forbidden-ear language of culture and family relationships is second to none. You bring such engagement for the reader. The comforts of home and coffee and family, rich with the reassurance that family love often means bawdy-language, passionate friction and taunting – – a love language all its own. You rocked this one out of the park, friend!
Wendy, wow, what an incredible poem. I loved the imagery of the rotary phones, the formica table, and the young bird imbibing “juicy words”. You transported me to my own grandmother’s kitchen who spoke German with her brother. I love the sense of comfort you develop in this poem and the joy that it shares. Beautiful!
Wendy— your rhyme and the rhythm of the poem pulled me in, and the feelings poured out! I, too, sat at a Formica table, and tried to pluck the juicy words out of conversations. Those were the best parts, and the best days…
I used to have peanut butter dream with my Grandpa. What great memories. Your Grandmother had some spunk!
First of all this was perfection. The emotion and the tension you captured – I felt as if I was there!
I am left thinking about how language is much more than understanding the words spoken. As a younger child you picked up on intonation and facial expressions that Grandma shared: whispers and voice changes marking gossip and intrigue that you picked up on despite not knowing the words. Love this
What an intriguing challenge. I appreciate your hyphenated words in this poem. Language play in English as well as placing of Arabic words.
I have written a book of tanka poems about the wood duck and asked a French speaker to write them in French. In South Louisiana, we still have Cajun French speakers and some French immersion schools.
For this exercise, I’ve taken one of my poems and interspersed the French words.
Dawn, when rayons du soleil stream,
an expectant glow invites
a wood duck couple—
Female shimmies through the hole,
Chatter-chipper à son compagnon.
Oh, what a lovely idea, Margaret. I love your poem, and the French, I believe adds to it. I think “chatter-chipper” may be the same in English and French, and I can hear it as the female readies your wood duck box on the Teche for her family. Beautiful!
Margaret, I can see your wood duck babies on jump day videos you share – this poem captures the universal love of watching them become a family, and releasing their little ones to go make families of their own. I feel the wide circle of wood duck love here! Beautiful, and the sun’s rays on the water – – that’s just spectacular.
Margaret, ahhh, I can hear the beauty of the Cajun French and see the sublime glow to dawn shining on the “duck couple”. Wonderful!
Oh how that switch to French adds such depth and allure and dare I mystery to your poem. Love the images here
It amazes me, Margaret, how often the poems we read by others remind us experiences we’ve had. You may have seen my poem about visiting Mauritius, off the coast of East Africa. There I learned that the French spoken there is so similar to Creole French spoken in Louisiana that peoples from those distant regions can understand each other perfectly!
The same thing, learning of languages spoken by people living far apart, happened when I took a writing course on the island of Sitka, in South Alaska. The Tlingit tribespeople there speak a language the Navajo tribespeople of the Navajo nation can understand with little effort!
Yes, I appreciate the fond memories your poem evoked for me.
Margaret, this set such a beautiful mood: the French words just made it!
The appeal of the wood ducks is one thing — this vision of the sun-glow and the invitation to intimacy from the female are exponentially beautiful, Margaret. I took 3 1/2 years of French in school and am captivated by this idea of French immersion schools. I’ve long dreamed of brushing up on that language.
Denise, I loved each of the poems you shared today, and the Haiku is a whole new level of challenge with the language shift and syllables. I love that you wrote about a spoon – so simple, but yet so true that we all have favorite flatware. Life as a here-to there portal drenched in promise is comfort at its pinnacle. Wow!!
Denise, what a fun and challenging invitation to write today! Thank you for hosting us! I love Iife as a here to there door. The changes in language line by line are energizing in this type of poetry – keeps us guessing and checking Google translate! I went in a corn maze yesterday with my husband and stepson and liked to have never come out of it!
A-Maze-ing
into the maize
we disappeared
with the map key
tucked in his pocket
in case of emerxencia
we got lost
in the मकई
we backtracked
followed folks on one row
met them on the next
reached dead ends
we were lost
in the मकई
shucking our noggins
wondering, wandering
among these
ears, husks, kernels
random scarecrows
nothing but
blue skies overhead
from this sea of korn
we were lost
in the मकई
he reached into his pocket
in case of emerxencia
led us
schritt für schritt
out of this maize maze
amazed
Wow, Kim. So much delicious word play here in English and others! I saw at least four languages (and is korn another?) “out of this maize maze / amazed” is really so clever. I like the map key bookending your poem. Wonderful!
Oh, Kim, I absolutely love your poem. Ahhhh, a corn maze! What a fun adventure and I so enjoyed reading your poem and delighted with the cleverness of your language and play on “maize”. Truly “amazing” poem!
So many things to love here. The mix of languages (the मकई LOOKS like a maze), the play on words and, most of all, the lostness! We used to go in field trips to corn mazes, and I was a failure every year! My student group was always the last out; one year, we just busted through sideways because all the others were on the bus. And we HAD a map!!
Whoa, Kim – I’ve a sense of actually being in this maize maze, with your magnificent wordplays adding to the sense of fun disorientation. Shucking your noggins -!! ‘Step by step’ (in German, no less) finding your way our of that maze with the emergency map – this is amazing fun to read!
Denise—your poem touched my heart. The here-to-there-Door and all the love it contains. Thank you for the inspiration!
Uff-da
“Uff-da,”
Great-Grandma Holmes,
would say as she pushed
up from her chair—
“Uff da”—an all-purpose
Swedish interjection.
Useful for annoyance,
surprise,
pleasure,
sorrow,
disappointment
Tone
said it all.
I didn’t learn much Swedish from her,
“Tack så mycket!, Varsådgod”
(Thank you/you’re welcome)
“Svenska flicka”
(Pretty Swedish girl—that was ME!)
But “uff-da”
I learned that from her…
and how to BE Swedish…
“Uff-da—you’re no better than anyone else.”
(respect everyone)
“Uff-da—but what did YOU do?”
(It takes two to have an argument)
“Uff-da—it’s…fine.”
(It wasn’t fine, but I’d find out later.)
“Uff-da—don’t talk about your good grades.”
(It makes the other kids feel bad.”)
“Uff-da—I bought you KNEW better…”
(You should do better.)
“Uff-da—it’s OK, you’ll do better next time.”
(You WILL do better!)
“Uff-da—let’s have coffee and talk about it.”
(Coffee fixes everything.)
“Uff-da—I love you so much.”
(Uff-da— I know.”)
Gayle Sands
9-18-22
Gayle, I love how you found so many ways to use the same phrase. Thank you for sharing.
Gayle, wow. That is such a good way to use this prompt. We have so many riches to learn from the generations coming from different cultures. I love where you took this. I had heard of the word “uff-da”, but now I know so much more, like used for both annoyance and surprise and even sorrow. Thank you for teaching us too.
There is so much of your heart in this poem it shines “Uff-da” reminds me of the Greek Opa! When I visited Greece, Opa was used as an exclamation of joy and fear.
Gayle, this way of using a multiple-meaning phrase with such expressive variances in tone to show generational love and understanding is rich with all the feels of belonging. Understanding. Encircling, guiding reassurance. Comfort. You’ve got it all right here. I hope you will frame this with a picture of your great grandmother and you learning and being Swedish.
Gayle,
I enjoyed all the different ways one word could be used to express many different feelings.
Thanks for sharing.
Gayle, your poem is so moving and tender it brought tears to my eyes. I love how you show everything your grandmother taught you. I feel these same sort of lessons were taught to e throughout life. Hasn’t our culture changed? Absolutely loved “and how to BE Swedish…” Incredible poem! Thank you!
Gayle, I love your poem. I love the conversational style of it so I could hear and understand the different meanings of “Uff-da.” I had a Norwegian pastor and he and his wife said it a lot. Now, I understand better that it can be used in many ways. I also love that “coffee fixes everything.” ?☕️
Denise, I love the idea of languages hugging continentally. Both of your poems are beautiful. The lyrical nature of Into the Door speaks to me today. I am moving houses this weekend (one move from home to house, the other from house to home) and was able to nab just a few moments this morning to write.
I Have a Student
This year
I have a student
who spent 6 months in Palau.
Is that near Guatamala?
I ask,
(usually geography is my thing
but its location
escaped me with the same
fuzziness of recent aged-brain recollections).
I have learned 3 words from her:
Alii, I now greet her.
Mechikung, I say when she leaves.
And my favorite,
bubuu,
which I learned
when she informed me
that they welcomed
spiders
(large, hairy legged versions)
into their homes
to help with the cockroach population.
Bubuu
What utter playful perfection.
Jennifer, I love bubuu! I have always wanted to choose to let spiders live, but it seems someone in my family wants to kills them. They are good for keeping down other bug populations too. This made me laugh aloud:
“I have a student
who spent 6 months in Palau.
Is that near Guatamala?
I ask,”
Oh, by the way, here is a link to Laviera’s poem:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/58198/spanglish
I love this! I get a peek into your classroom and the way you welcome every student for who they are. Wonderful way to weave in a new language.
Jennifer, how perfect for fall – the welcoming of spiders! I find the culture of this practice fascinating – the valuing of spiders with purpose in those homes. What a lovely children’s book this would be – I can see the hairy-legged heroes as protectors, fighting off the intruding cockroaches and then settling into their comfy beds in the corner cobwebs, making themselves at home. Perhaps even with names. Bubuu. Fascinating poem!
Jennifer, imagine inviting hairy spiders into your home to help with the cockroaches! Oh my, your poem is wonderful and I can feel the sweet connection between you and your student. Sensational poem!
oh my goodness! How fun and how funny! Welcoming spiders. I cannot even imagine it. But, I love how you took this moment and poemed it perfectly. What fun you have ahead of you.
Just fascinating, Jennifer, to think of all this student will teach you! What a gift. As is this story poem. Welcoming of spiders in the home to help with cockroach problem … !!!… maybe we need bubuu at my school. We have giant cockroaches. I once killed one in the auditorium by stomping it (sorry, kids, but…) and one child said, Hey, Mrs. Haley, that stuffing looks just like a Moon Pie. — :O :O :O
Oh, the faces I am making as I read this!
Jennifer, I could feel the warmth and care you have for your students. I am reminded of when I taught Chinese high school students who knew little English. We found ways to connect and they loved using maps to show me where they were from. They always loved to talk about their home. The spiders part is so creepy yet fascinating! I would not do well living with spiders or cockroaches. I don’t think I’d survive in some cultures. ?
Denise, I’m in awe of your lyrical poem, in itself, a here-to-there portal from Earth to Heaven. Incredibly beautiful phrases, meanings, imagery – sweet-hope Home, whispers-from-God Joshuas… it is a sacred meditation. Thank you also for sharing Britt’s gorgeous poem, in which words, tradition, and love flow mingled with abiding warmth.
It is September, which brings one of my own favorite things on Earth, famously originating right here in North Carolina where my roots run deep…
In the Place of the Sweet Trees
Long ago, the first People knew the river.
They named it for the trees growing there
where spice-bark and great white flowers
perfume the air.
In this place of the sweet trees
along the riverbank
a vine began to grow.
It bore fruit in the shape
of spheres
of the Earth itself
as yet unknown.
Thick-hulled green-gold
pearls of the vine
that the People named
for the blackwater river
in the place of the askupo,
those heavy, fragrant trees
rooted in swampy soil.
The People, standing in the cool shadows
of the sweet trees by the river,
tasted the askuponong,
the scuppernong,
and understood
the Divine.
What a rich description in “thick-hulled green-gold/ pearls of the vine.” Scuppernong is new to me. Thanks for the introduction with beautifully placed words.
Fran, I toyed with the Native American language in my poem today because of the corn, but I couldn’t get it to work for me – – and you have done just what I had hoped to do so beautifully here, this masterful use of a selection of words from those of our origins in this country. It’s positively beautiful, and your title is captivating – -it drew me right in from the start. There is something so mesmerizing about the essence of pure nature and clean rivers of long ago, of those who saw it in its pristine state. I feel comforted when I think of those times, and you bring it on strong here in your verse today.
P.S. I can taste the scuppernong wine on my lips at the end…..yes, divine from the Divine.
Oh, wow, what a beautiful long ago story. It’s like a creation or pourquoi tale. I feel like a grandma is telling me the story around a fire. So, you said it’s one of your favorite things. Do you get to pick them from the wild and eat them? Or do they sell them in NC stores or along the roadside? It sounds magical.
Some of these descriptions are breathtaking:
“where spice-bark and great white flowers
perfume the air”
“pearls of the vine”
“those heavy, fragrant trees
rooted in swampy soil”
Denise, my grandfather grew scuppernongs at his country home in coastal North Carolina, so that’s where I first encountered them. They’re big grapes in the muscadine family, indescribably rich and sweet, ripe for picking at this time of year. They’re also grown in central NC where I live now and a lady from my church brings me a bag full of them every September. I LOVE these grapes. They ARE divine! The scuppernong Mother Vine is in Manteo, on Roanoke Island, site of the Lost Colony. It’s the oldest cultivated vine in the country (400 + years). I love the musical sound of the name scuppernong; you can hear the Algonquian roots. There are varying accounts of what it means (NCpedia is helpful).I’ve crossed the Scuppernong River many times and have enjoyed imagining the first people tasting the wild fruit and naming it. The trees are sweet bay magnolias, also known as swamp magnolias – incredibly fragrant. Thank you for this rich prompt and for your words in responseI This was a joy to write.
Fran, thank you so much for answering me in such detail. You make me want to go to North Carolina in September! I love your poem, and now I want to eat scuppernongs even more.
Oh, that last stanza. Soooooooo beautiful. I too am drawn into those “thick-hulled green-gold pearls.” Such impressive imagery in this!
I love your poem and the idea of it. There are many more Dari speakers at my school this year and I would love to offer opportunities to weave Dari words into poetry. The words are so pretty, to me that doesn’t understand but wants to!
étoile du soir
e vening tide
t umbles
o ffering
i ncantations
l ittle, lulling
e nchantments
Gorgeous acrostic in honor of your OLW in another language! Your lines always enchant me, Linda.
Linda, I can imagine the stars tumbling in the evening tide – what an incredible image! And you’ve captured the softness in which it occurs with the l alliteration of little, lulling. Enchanting indeed!
“lulling enchantments” is lovely. Beautiful leaning in to your word Star.
Linda, you created such a lovely, simple yet powerful acrostic of etoile. Those words are vivid with feeling and motion, and ending with the word enchantments is universal – – every reader sees the vision differently. The essence of poetry. I always learn something from your poems, and this is a prime example of how you give a universal appeal and leave it open-ended for us to envision our own version of enchantments.
Yes, I love how stars so often manage to find your poems. This is lovely. I love the alliteration “tide / tumbles” and “little, lulling” enchantments.
It seems your evening star is French. Is there a connection between Dari and French? I just learned Dari is the official language of Afghanistan. I’m thinking of your Dari speakers today and wondering if they came on a refugee plane. 🙁 Their language is also basically the same as Farsi, the language of Iran, which was the first language of some of my students in Bahrain. (Then they came to our school and studied in Arabic and English! It’s amazing what people can do with languages.)