Sweeter than Honey

Earlier this week, the first object at Nervousness for which I ever signed up came home to me. The task was to create a page in a journal based on a poem of each participant's choosing. My "journal," which I will bound at some point in the near future features work inspired by Osip Mandel'shtam's poem, "For your delight, take from my palms...":

For your delight, take from my palms
A little sun, a little honey,
As Persephone's bees have ordered us.

You can't cast off an unmoored boat,
Or hear a shadow shod in fur,
Or conquer fear in this primeval life.

All that remains for us are kisses,
Furry, like tiny bees
That die as they quit their hive.

They rustle in night's transparent thickets,
They nest in the primeval Taiget forest,
They feed on time, Spirea, mint.

For your delight, then, take my savage present -
This plain dry necklace
Of dead bees who turned honey to sun.

The translation is by Tatiana Tulchinsky, Gwenan Wilbur, and Andrew Wachtel. The original can be found here.

Here are the pages, all of which are the same size in reality. My scanning skills are a bit rusty.






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