Since I've been posting poems about family connections this week, it seemed to make sense to continue the theme with this short text of a man remembering his wife (since yesterday's poem was about a woman remembering her husband). If yesterday's poem was largely about the life the husband had before his second marriage to the poet, this poem is about the persistence in dreams of a couple's life together: the lovers' mutual connection, expressed through her care of his clothes and his desire to be reunited with her in death. The second poem today is also about marriage, but the beginning rather than the end. I found these poems in A Book of Luminous Things, the wonderful anthology of poetry, edited by Czeslaw Milosz, that supplied the two poems from Monday's post. It was published in 1998, so I do not know if it's still in print, but it is a wonderful resource. A Dream at Night In broad daylight I dream I
Am with her. At night I dream
She is still at my side. She
Carries her kit of colored
Threads. I see her image bent
Over her bag of silks. She
Mends and alters my clothes and
Worries for fear I might look
Worn and ragged. Dead, she watches
Over my life. Her constant
Memory draws me towards death.
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translated from the Chinese by Kenneth Rexroth.
The New Wife
On the Third day she went down to the kitchen,
Washed her hands, prepared the broth.
Still unaware of her new mother’s likings.
She asks his sister to taste.
-- Wang Chien (768-830)
translated from the Chinese by J. P. Seaton
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