
We’ll always have Paris
How to translate the perfection of an instant,
when words disenchant the very reality?
Beauty in its rawest nature
filling people’s minds with awe
Nothing performed, nothing replicated,
But for a brief moment, which leaves us
as it found us, unaware,
It is like a flash on the coast
when lost at sea on a stormy night;
It is like walking through a crowd
and catching a fragrance
that arises loving memories;
It is like hearing the final verse of a hymn
resonating through one’s whole body
A leaf on the pavement, which
vivid colours and intricate shape
echo for one instant the essence of beauty
in one’s own conception of time and space.
Roasted cabbage and its garam masala glaze,
reminding one that taste can elevate the soul
until goodness is turned into a vague memory
Feelings, emotions, truths in all their intensity
pointing beyond thesemlves, to a greater reality.
Sarraute calls them “tropismes,” others mystery
The acknowledgement of a point beyond
any human sensibility and actuality
where Beauty was encountered,
having left us to live accordingly,
trusting that “we’ll always have Paris,”
might become more than just memory:
an invitation to the liminal space
where one is met with the Ineffable
* * * * *
Ce poème questionne la perfection telle qu'elle se révèle à nous, éphémère, naturelle, intense et pointant vers une réalité plus grande, au-delà d'elle-même. La poète invite à rencontrer la beauté de l'Ineffable.
