Another brush with Craig Arnold.

I ran into another piece by Craig Arnold today, this one is a translation of a poem written by Ramon Cote Baraibar. Translations are particularly difficult in the poetry world. Finding words that have the same meaning, but that also carry the flow can be an extremely tedious task. That flow seems to be what separates one poet from another, if your familiar with Arnold's other work I think you will be able to tell it's his translation. Also Arnold has a great note on the poem, I've never learned so much about the word "pardon", its meaning and the ways in which we do or do not use it everyday.

Coal Delivery Man

Like finding a bar of aluminum wedged in a bull’s jaw. Like discovering in a sea chest a short obsidian head. Like looking through a padlock and seeing an undeserved dawn. As impossible as all these, as melancholy and lonely, was it to see the green truck that with the punctuality of a sacrament delivered the coal each month. On the slope its strained heart would announce itself vociferously, at the brink of death, and it would stop in front of the house as if to deliver the agonizing news of the fall of Troy. And then a man, wrapped in sacking, would pitch his cargo, resonant and angular, into an orange-painted crate.

Like opening a Bible and finding three leaves of laurel. Like lifting a stone and remembering someone’s name. Like finding the same snail again a hundred miles away. As impossible as all these, as melancholy and lonely, would it be to find, fifteen years later, the same coal deliveryman carrying on his trade, bent from the strain, determined to show the heavens that a man might do that job his entire life, that he scraped in the mines, that he stole hread from his wife to sew his sacking, that he dreamed of infinite excavations, of tunnels, and that they might forgive him for not having done more than that.




I hope this stays with you
TLH