Waiting table after table;

Changing endless bedpans, diapers

Over the course of countless years;

Doing more than you were able;

Dodging doubts that lurked like snipers;

Carving niches round complaints;

Facing down your frowning fears—

Was this not the work of saints?

A human book could never hold

All you nameless ones have done.

Yours, the stories seldom told

That still transpire beneath the sun.

APOLLONIUS AND HIS HEIRS

                             Do not all charms fly

   At the mere touch of cold philosophy?

                          –John Keats, “Lamia”

When Lamia underwent that painful change

To be a girl and win a mortal’s heart,

The former serpent knew that she was strange

And sensed the two of them should live apart

From the common round. But humans crave their kind—

However crass and coarse their company—

And so gregarious Lycius came to find

His bride’s boudoir a stuffy place to be.

The poor fool’s tutor felt the need to warn

His charge away from fetid fantasy,

Strove to steer his pupil to the norm,

Facts and thoughts his sole reality.

Lamia shuddered when she saw him frown:

A sage like him could only be suspect.

And she perished when he stared her down:

Beauty dreads relentless intellect.

We have our rigorous prigs who rage at beauty,

Cannot tolerate a simple song,

And ever see it as their sacred duty

To pounce on every mole they deem placed wrong.

Such testy fellows fear the feminine

And think their hard exteriors make them men.

About the Poet:

William Ruleman devotes his time to writing, painting, translating, and—when possible—travel. His newest collections of poetry include Black Forest Poems and A Strange and Sweet Unrest, while his latest collection of translations is Songs for the Seasons: Poems of Rilke and His Age. More about him can be found at www.williamruleman.com.

The post Poems by William Ruleman first appeared on Prachya Review.

Some fool falls for a femme and finds

Old friends and kin have changed their minds

About his mind and character.

“What on earth made you choose her?

We see you have made a tragic mistake.”

But this minion of myth would make

The same decision again and again,

Being overmastered when

Venereal Venus steals the scene

Upon that lush and lust-rich green

When Troy was rendered ripe for flame,

And all because of Eris’s game  

With one doomed and dazzled male

Ordained to peer beyond the veil

Of humdrum home and hearth and duty

And burn for deathless bodily beauty.

Red Poppy Blossoms

(translated after the German of Georg Heym

by William Ruleman)

You took red poppy blossoms—lots of them—

Lovely flowers that the summer gave.

Your slender hand broke off each tender stem

From the lush green garden, wave on wave.

In the gorges, roses hung down low,

Freely offered for your own desire,             

Agleam again in hues of heightened glow

To grace your heart now with their fragrant fire.   

Green

(translated after the French of Paul Verlaine

by William Ruleman)

See fruits and flowers, leaves and branches here;

And see here too my heart, which beats for you.

Let not your white hands tear them, but with dear

Endearment eye these humble gifts for you.

I come to you with dew all over me

That morning winds have scattered on my brow;

Let my fatigue stretch at your feet to be

Refreshed by dreams of your dear presence now.

And in your young lap let me lay my head,

Bemused by daydreams of your kiss and smile;

And since the tempest of our lust has fled,

Let me sleep while you repose a while. 

Formerly a professor of English, William Ruleman now devotes himself to writing and painting. His most recent books include the poetry collection From Rage to Hope (White Violet Books, 2016) and his translations of Hermann Hesse’s Early Poems (Cedar Springs Books, 2017) and Stefan Zweig’s unfinished novel Clarissa (Ariadne Press, also 2017). More about him can be found at www.williamruleman.com.

Brief Biography of the Poets Translated:

Georg Heym (1887-1912), one of the most famous of the German Expressionist poets, is best known for his nightmarish visions of the modern city and cultural collapse, but he was also a sensitive and romantic observer of nature. His poetic output before his accidental death by drowning at the age of 24 was amazing.

Paul Verlaine (1844-96) is well-known as one of the greatest French poets of the latter 19th-century.

The post Poems by William Ruleman first appeared on Prachya Review.