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 | Year Posted 2020
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