The poem is not lost
In translation, since
The poem is never
Translated. The poem
Is the translation,
The language that’s not
Really the language
Of the world the poem
Is about, the world
Of the body, say,
Or of the heart, or
Even of people.
They’re so close, of course,
People’s languages
And their translations
Into poems, almost
Intelligible
Dialects without
Translation. And then,
The other extreme,
The beyond-human
World, not a language,
Hardest to translate,
Most often what’s lost.
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