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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 © John Lingard

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