Greg Kelm

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

It is too hot out
        For early August, the trees
Exhausted by the July heat.
        Their leaves yellowed, energy
Draining toward the earth.
        But not the indomitable oak
The refuge of chirping cicadas,
        And spiders weaving
Their webs. In the branches
        Ants are dancing
An elegant late summer ballet.

Like the birds, I hide 'neath the leaves
        Looking for shade.
Glancing at the sun, white and merciless,
        Asking faded questions,
How, through evolution and persecution
        Through life and death, how my bones, my blood,
My eyes, my balls, my head
        Could come to be here? Linked by my ancestors
To the first hominid, the first fish
        Swimming in the primordial ooze,
Linked by my arteries to the first inkling
        Of the first idea hit upon in
The middle of the afternoon on a road
        In the south-western Louisiana countryside
Leading to who knows where, linked by the choices of my
        Heritage sown both behind me
And ahead, and by so many accidents or twists of fate.
Saddened by the arrogance of man,
Comforted by the beauty of fields
And trees.


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