Hugh Hazelton

Translation of Zachary Richard's poem "1^er août, Section III (extrait)."
Traduction du poème "1er août, Section III (extrait)" de Zachary Richard.

August 1st, Section III (excerpt)

It¹s too hot for
    this early in August, the trees
exhausted by the July heat.
    Their yellow leaves, the energy
that returns to the earth.
    Except for the indomitable oaks
refuge of singing locusts,
    and spiders sculpting
their webs.  In their branches,
    ants dance
a delicate step, end-of-summer ballet.

Like the birds, I hide beneath the leaves
    searching for shade.
Watching the white, pitiless sun,
    asking faded questions,
How down through evolution and persecution
    through life and death, how my bones, blood,
eyes, balls, head
    managed to end up here?  Attached by my ancestors
to the first men to walk, the first fish
    to swim in the primordial ooze,
attached by my arteries to the first glimmer
    of the first idea in
the middle of an afternoon on a road
    that runs from the southwestern Louisiana countryside
to who know¹s where, attached by the choices of my
    heritage sown both behind
and ahead by so many accidents or else by crooked destiny.
    Saddened by the arrogance of man,
comforted by the beauty of fields
    and trees.


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