Karin Montin

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

August 1, Section III (excerpt)

It's too hot for
            early August, the trees
Exhausted by the July heat.
            The yellow leaves, the energy
Going back to the earth.
            Except for the indomitable oaks,
The refuge of singing cicadas
            And spiders sculpting
Their webs. In their branches,
            The ants dance
delicate steps, a late-summer ballet.

Like the birds, I hide beneath the leaves
            Seeking shade,
Looking at the pitiless white sun,
            Asking wilted questions-
How, through evolution and persecution,
            Through life and death, did my bones, my blood,
My eyes, my balls, my head
            Manage to wind up here? Bound by my ancestors
To the first walking humans, to the first fish
            Swimming in the primordial ooze,
Bound by my arteries to the first hint
            Of the first idea
In the middle of the afternoon on a road
            Leading from the southwestern Louisiana countryside
To who knows where, bound by choices my forebears
            Scattered backward as much as forward,
And by so many mishaps or twists of fate.
            Saddened by human arrogance,
Soothed by the beauty of fields
            And trees.

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