Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Racine
I am gigantically fortunate
not to have pursued the re-
solution of my soul, to be-
come a teacher-scholar. I'd
be crediting others highly
for the simple capacity for
amazement. I see it in pos-
tures of virtual squirmings
of extraction, of floppy el-
oquence ascribed to fey but
fascinated, faintly fetid
puppies, surpassingly hilar-
ious, yet authentically as-
tute. And then I'd remember
the irony of composure among
one's peers, immobilised by
competence. Or does contor-
tion among amateurs prefig-
ure, rather, blogging? The
notion belongs to one of
the naughtiest wits of our
lives, an ornament of the
stave.
To compose
one reassuring line per day
to placate our public
with a positive gesture
this
we quite simply
owe ourselves
First of all
we breathe in deeply
and look into the mirror
until we like what we see
Then
we glance around the room
for a truly insignificant object
ignored by everyone
which we gaze at lovingly
a speck of dust maybe
that for us represents all galaxies
As soon as we feel the world to be good
or even wondrous
we hurry to our desk
hold our breath
and pen our panegyric
..
Alfred Brendel
One Finger Too Many
Panegyric
fragment
Richard Stokes
assistant in translation
op. cit.
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