beauty makes her throne
her shrine
but an important school for those
who yearn
the mechanics of beauty production to learn:
beauty on her throne
mistress of schooling and
the Earth will kneel
and hear:
take in note on note, Idea on Idea,
and
in all this Hastings Gardens being so tiny
beauty zoomed her Principles to fit in size.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Is Hasting Gardens a park you frequent? The logic of the poem makes me see the eponymous speaker as one who appreciates the beauty and perhaps the beautiful silence of the park. In a world in which NIGHT breeds monstrous beings and presides over human suffering (previous poem) we need the refreshment of a garden which as your poem says scales down BEAUTY to a beautiful place. That's something our limited sensibility can comprehend. I read in a book about Italian Renaissance gardens that every garden contains the remembrance of paradise! Your evocation of Hastings Garden awoke that awareness in me. It's a lovely poem.