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Through a Glass, Darkly

Through a Glass, Darkly This first translation of an unwritten poem By Jorge Luis Borges stands against Invisible Spanish on the left-hand page Sadly imperfect Anglo-Saxon reflex Of pure anticipation fine suspension Clear aperture though when this blurred mimesis Of vision is erased the parable Of vision will emerge like messages We coded into lemon-juice as children And held to candles where brown letters forming Were artless alchemy but then these lines That honour him who read in dark the volumes Of an infinite library who will be writing When his loved hourglass turns again to sand. John Lingard Sydney Nova Scotia 2020

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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