*
D som i Dungarees - arbetsbyxor, ofta med bröstlapp och hängslen, kring sekelskiftet (1900) sydda i kraftig bomull, men numera mest tillverkade i denim. Namnet har de fått efter ett område i Bombay, Dungri (hindi). Källa: NE
I dikten har dottern lagt till några accessoarer till sina dungarees, och dessa leder mammans tankar till munkar och beduiner.
My daughter's dungarees, by Heather Brett
(From The Poetry Ireland Review, No. 36, Autumn 1992.)
For a while
I couldn't place it -
a delicate tinkle
too slight to recognise,
anyway, the light was going
and I thought of monks heading home
bare-headed and silken clad
their robes like fire,
red dust on their feet;
prayer belts of leather swaying
where tiny silver cymbals meet
I heard the sound again this morning,
dawn was a blue tear in the dark
and I thought of caravans moving,
the pitch and slant of yawning camels,
the fall and fold of silken tents,
the spurring on of skillful drovers
that approaching, scorching, sun
and underneath the black djellabas
waist length hair coiled in combs,
diamond pins adorning nostrils
every finger ringed,
and hooked upon each little earlobe
a clump of elfin, clinking bells.
***
E som i Evergreen - har två betydelser. Det kan betyda 'evigt grön' men också stå för en melodi ("örhänge") som förblir populär under en lång följd av år. Har funnits som ett sammansatt adjektiv, ever + green, sedan 1660. Källor: Bonniers Lexikon, Online Etymology
Evergreen, by David Malouf (f. 1934)
(From Revolving days : selected poems. St Lucia, Qld. : University of Queensland Press, 2008.)
At twenty an admirer
of crocus and hyacinth, all
those dawn stars like snowflakes
lighting the grass,
I expected like them
to burn out fast, touch-paper
flaring, gone
in a quick blast before thirty.
How else should one live?
And here I am a decade
on from that early death.
Having endured
thirty and the years
beyond, it's the stolid ones, the inchling
head-in cloud slow-growers
I envy - turning
stars in their branches, holding
fast to earth.
It's trees I look for nowadays,
year after year
adding their rings, recording
this month's frost, that season's
burning, the arrival
and departure of leaves, birds,
mice, barefoot invaders,
and applecore wars
in the kingdom of twigs.
I've discovered an old man's folly,
I'm planting giants: wych elm,
chestnut, larch a seed
cast into the next
long-shadowed century.
I doze in the shade
of a bunya pine, its roots
deep in the 1880s,
bubbling with doves.
In its wind-rocked boughs the heavy
green Pacific drowses
and grandfather sets sail
to find us; the tree
is dreaming our lives.
Its dust-thick shadow reaches
the road, and I swing
high on a tide of voices.
Green, green, evergreen.
***
F som i Frisbee - har fått sitt namn efter ett varumärke, Frisbie Pie Company. Ett pajbageri där anställda roade sig med att kasta pajformar på lediga stunder.
Tävlingsdiskar är 21-40 cm i diameter och väger 85-200 gram. Källa: NE
The flight of a frisbee, by Hamish Ironside (f. 1971)
(From Thumbscrew No 15 - Winter/Spring 2000.)
If you like that sort of thing, the flight of a frisbee
Can be a kind of perfection, like shooting a plane
Along the edge of a door so the shaving curls,
Unbroken, with the shiver and snap of snake. However,
This is something else: the wobbles and plummets
Of an awkward silver-speckled disc that flashes
The summer’s hottest sun across the vast
Lawn on which I watch the distant throwers.
Yet I am spellbound by the unceasing chasing
And flailing, the frisbee’s flightless arcs, the girls;
Vague and happy limbs and gestures, the sight
Of laughter, too far away for me to hear.
Too far for me to even see their faces.
Only their shadows creep towards me. I could
Move closer; then again, perhaps this is
As close as one can get to love, or should.
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