Locus [Common Meter]

One clump of flowers has the power
To lure the eye’s focus.
The background blurs as mind infers
Which hue shall be the locus.

Naked Wisdom [Haiku]

Photograph of a barren tree taken on the Butch Kennedy Trail, near Lake Hartwell, in South Carolina.
one bare tree
knew not to bud or bloom
before the last freeze.

Gnawed Hickory Nut [Haiku]

Photograph of Big Creek Trail in Roswell, Georgia.
bench beside trail:
vacant but for a gnawed
hickory nutshell.

Skulking Deer [Senryū]

Photograph of a deer taken from Alpharetta's Big Creek Greenway Trail.
step: "Crunch - Crack!" --
skulking deer startles itself,
looks out: who noticed?

Cold Creek [Haiku]

Photograph taken near the start of the Mae Yen Waterfall trek at Pai, Thailand.
butterflies dance
beside a cold creek,
near sun-warmed leaves.

Gust [Haiku]

Photograph taken at Pai Canyon near Pai, Thailand.
Autumn gust
sends leaf fluttering --
cat paws at it.

BOOK: Transient Worlds by Arthur Sze

Transient Worlds: On Translating PoetryTransient Worlds: On Translating Poetry by Arthur Sze
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Publisher Site — Copper Canyon

Release Date: April 14, 2026

Just as people are fond of saying, “the book is always better than the movie,” there is an idea — widely accepted as truism — that goes, “a translation can never be as good as its source poem.” I don’t buy either of those views, but there’s certainly truth to the notion that a poetic translation can never perfectly echo style, tone, sound quality, and meaning at once. Each language is unique, and the more different two languages are the more one has to make decisions about what one will emulate and what one will craft. It’s also true that any translation will represent a drift away from the culture of the original (which is not identical to being worse.) In short, any poetry translation that seeks to be good had better be a work of art unto itself.

The current US Poet Laureate (as of this writing,) Arthur Sze, has written a book to help readers intelligently navigate the troubled waters of poetic translation. Sze certainly has insight, having not only translated Chinese poems himself, but also being Professor Emeritus at the Institute of American Indian Arts, he has multiple cultural lenses with which to view poetry.

This book consists of fifteen chapters exploring poems and poetry excerpts from around the globe — and their translations. The twelve diverse source languages include: Chinese, Navajo, French, Ancient Greek, Hebrew, Danish, and Russian. The original poets include Tao Qian, Guillaume Apollinaire, Homer, Kobayashi Issa, Pablo Neruda, Marina Tsvetaeva, Aime Cesaire, Najwan Darwish, and Mirabai. Many of the chapters include multiple translations, offering the reader a means to see how different translators take to the task. Others offer only a single translation but turn their attention to specific considerations of translation. In one case, there is an interview with the translator. I enjoyed this varied approach to the exploring the topic. It made for a book with zero monotony and many facets.

If you are a poet or a poetry reader who enjoys reading poetry from varied languages or source languages, I’d highly recommend this book.

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Peach Blossoms [Lyric Poem]

Photograph of Peach Blossoms taken in early March in Atlanta's Piedmont Park.
I see the Peach Blossoms of Spring,
And think of old Li Bai’s answer.

In wordless replies, the world sings;
In unpeopled worlds, there’s a dancer.

The referenced poem by Li Bai [李白] is entitled Question and Answer in the Mountains [山中问答] and is crudely translated as:

I'm asked why I live in mountains.
I laugh while giving no reply.

Peach Blossoms flow from sight & mind;
Beyond men, another Earth & Sky.

Or, in Chinese:

问余何意栖碧山,
笑而不答心自闲。

桃花流水窅然去,
别有天地非人间。

Great Wide Darkness [Haiku]

Photograph of the north bay of Koh Phi Phi, Thailand. Taken from Viewpoint 3.
Sun is low;
boat leaves the bay's shelter,
creeping toward darkness.

Beach Sweep [Haiku]

lapping waves
deposit lines of debris,
but not so tidily.