POEM
The Trees Delete Themselves Inside a Fog-Sphere
In the fog which surrounds the trees, the leaves are stripped—leaves defaced already by slow oxidation, deadened by the sap's out-seeping for flowers' and fruits' gain, since the harsh heats of August made of them a less.
In the bark, vertical furrows crease and slit where dampness drains to the earth's base, indifferent to the living citizens of the trunk.
Flowers scattered, fruit conferred. Since youth, this relinquishing of breathing attributes and body parts has become for the trees a standard practice.
Translated by Karen Volkman
Source: Poetry (April 2008).
This poem originally appeared in the April 2008 issue of Poetry.
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Francis Ponge (1899–1984 ) was born in Montpellier, France. His best-known work in English . . . MORE »
