It’s another April which means pollen and people abound. I have been consoled, or at least distracted, by poetry.
For three years, I have been celebrating the poetry month by reading a poet I have not previously read at length. Last year I read every poem written by Emily Dickinson. Although I was highly motivated, that project took the entire spring, not just the month of April, to accomplish. Although reading Emily Dickinson made me sneeze at the contemplation of imaginary pollen, it was nonetheless a wonderful ride.
This year, I want to actually finish a book of poems in April, so I have decided to read a short book called “The Captain’s Verses” by Pablo Neruda. And frankly, that was my only consideration (the length of the book) and the constraint was to pick something lying in my house because I really couldn’t justify buying another book after my insane book shopping phase for the past couple of months (I may have a problem here, people).
I picked up “The Captain’s Verse” at a used bookstore back in college when I was at the height of my love of Spanish literature. So one unexpected treat this year was that I had selected a book with two languages, the original Spanish poem juxtaposed to its English translation.
So I found myself reading Spanish again after many years of hiatus. And once I got over the initial shock and shame at how much I had forgotten, I found myself reading the Spanish portion out loud. I love the taste of the Spanish language at the tip of my tongue. And the rhythm of the language even with my awkward pausing and pronunciation. The English translation filled in the meaning, but it was the Spanish version that I felt in my heart. Reading in a language gives you a different cardiac rhythm. And if you are one of those people who seat the soul in the heart and not in the brain, it may make perfect sense to you why engaging in a different language makes you feel like a different person…
