Comments on: Family Ties VIII: Generations https://blog.lyrickinard.com/2010/11/family-ties-viii-generations/ find joy, be inspired, create beauty Wed, 10 Nov 2010 04:59:12 +0000 hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 By: acarolegrant https://blog.lyrickinard.com/2010/11/family-ties-viii-generations/#comment-1267 Wed, 10 Nov 2010 04:59:12 +0000 http://lyrickinard.com/blog/?p=209#comment-1267 Cameo and lace
Stitching shows the past still lives
Beauty at its best.

Gorgeous Lyric! and I love doing the Haiku…

]]> By: Vivika https://blog.lyrickinard.com/2010/11/family-ties-viii-generations/#comment-1266 Tue, 09 Nov 2010 13:12:37 +0000 http://lyrickinard.com/blog/?p=209#comment-1266 I love this series, Lyric. Bravo! And as an English Major (25 years ago…) it made me think about all of that lovely poetry I studied. The best fit I can think of is your "knitted" piece being paired with Pablo Neruda's "Ode to my Socks". I am not sure if copyright has expired – probably hasn't, but if you site the author and translator, you'd probably have no problem. The poem is too large to attach to this comment, but if you can't get it, email me and I'll send an attachment.
vdenegre(at)yahoo(dot)com

last stanza…
The moral of my ode is this:
beauty is twice beauty
and what is good is doubly good
when it is a matter of two socks
made of wool in winter.

]]> By: Vivika https://blog.lyrickinard.com/2010/11/family-ties-viii-generations/#comment-1265 Tue, 09 Nov 2010 13:11:22 +0000 http://lyrickinard.com/blog/?p=209#comment-1265 I love this series, Lyric. Bravo! And as an English Major (25 years ago…) it made me think about all of that lovely poetry I studied. The best fit I can think of is your "knitted" piece being paired with Pablo Neruda's "Ode to my Socks". I am not sure if copyright has expired – probably hasn't, but if you site the author and translator, you'd probably have no problem. I'll try to add the copy to this comment, but if you can't get it, email me and I'll send an attachment.
vdenegre(at)yahoo(dot)com "Ode to My Socks" by Pablo Neruda (translated by Robert Bly)
Mara Mori brought me
a pair of socks
which she knitted herself
with her sheepherder's hands,
two socks as soft as rabbits.
I slipped my feet into them
as if they were two cases
knitted with threads of twilight and goatskin,
Violent socks,
my feet were two fish made of wool,
two long sharks
sea blue, shot through
by one golden thread,
two immense blackbirds,
two cannons,
my feet were honored in this way
by these heavenly socks.
They were so handsome for the first time
my feet seemed to me unacceptable
like two decrepit firemen,
firemen unworthy of that woven fire,
of those glowing socks.

Nevertheless, I resisted the sharp temptation
to save them somewhere as schoolboys
keep fireflies,
as learned men collect
sacred texts,
I resisted the mad impulse to put them
in a golden cage and each day give them
birdseed and pieces of pink melon.
Like explorers in the jungle
who hand over the very rare green deer
to the spit and eat it with remorse,
I stretched out my feet and pulled on
the magnificent socks and then my shoes.

The moral of my ode is this:
beauty is twice beauty
and what is good is doubly good
when it is a matter of two socks
made of wool in winter.

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