Chantal Bizzini is a poet and translator who was born in 1956 and lives in Paris. She’s published poems as well as translations of Anglo-American poets including Ezra Pound, Hart Crane, W. H. Auden, Adrienne Rich, Denise Levertov, John Ashbery, Clayton Eshleman and Jorie Graham in Po&sie, Europe, Poésie 2005, Action Poétique, Le Mâche-Laurier, Rehauts, and Siècle 21. She defended a thesis at the University of Paris on Ezra Pound and Hart Crane and is currently pursuing research on these poets. She just completed translating the complete poems of Hart Crane and an anthology of poems by Adrienne Rich both of which will appear in Circé Editions. Éditions Obsidiane will publish Bizzini’s first collection of poems in 2012.
Marilyn Kallet (translator) is the author of sixteen books, including The Love That Moves Me, poetry, 2013, as well as translations of Benjamin Péret’s The Big Game (Le grand jeu) and Paul Eluard’s Last Love Poems, all from Black Widow Press. She is the director of the Creative Writing Program at the University of Tennessee where she holds the Nancy Moore Goslee Professorship in English. Each spring she also teaches a poetry workshop for the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts in Auvillar, France. Kallet has won the Tennessee Arts Literary Fellowship in Poetry, and has served on the Tennessee Arts Commission Literary Advisory Panel. She was inducted into the East Tennessee Literary Hall of Fame in Poetry in 2005. She has performed her poems on campuses and in theatres across the United States, as well as in France and in Krakow and Warsaw, as a guest of the U.S. Embassy’s “America Presents” program.
This unknown flower that disturbs,
mask, opaque object,
you turned away from it, not able to undo
the mute chains.
The hue and the texture of this abrupt flowering…
it must now
dazzle black sky with its revelation
since its oblivion would carry bare
and solitary death.
It will blossom like this, another star,
scarlet and without fire;
and the slow swinging of the sky
in the regularity of its movement
will negate the verve of its color
to weave, in the style of a destiny,
the space where you live;
on the same stalk that ties earth and sky
and vertigo cling.
The stars, the Milky Way, two planes glimmer.
Cette fleur inconnue qui trouble,
de mort, objet opaque,
tu t’en es détourné, ne pouvant défaire
les chaînes muettes.
La teinte et la texture de cette floraison brusque…
il faut maintenant
éblouir le ciel noir de sa révélation
puisque son oubli porterait la mort
solitaire et nue.
Elle éclora ainsi, autre étoile,
écarlate et sans feu ;
et le lent basculement du ciel,
dans la régularité de son mouvement,
niera l’élan de sa couleur
pour tisser, à la manière d’un destin,
l’espace où tu vis;
sur la même tige qui lie terre et ciel
s’attachent la peine
et le vertige.
Les étoiles, la voie lactée, deux avions clignotent.