Ram
I'm confused. Why is someone ironing Pablo Neruda?
And praising the fact.
Would he have been happy about this?
david
----- Original Message -----
From: Ram Devineni <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Wednesday, January 31, 2001 5:09 PM
Subject: PK Page's poem selected to be read at the UN and on Mt. Everest
> Hello Everyone: Ms. Marilyn Hacker has selected the
> poem which will be read in celebration of the
> "Dialogue Among Civilizations Through Poetry" program
> at the UN, Mt. Everest, Antarctica and the West
> Philippines Sea. The poem is "Planet Earth" by
> Canadian poet P.K. (Patricia Kathleen) Page. The poem
> is taken from Ms Page's collection, "The Hidden Room"
> (in two volumes), published by The Porcupine's Quill
> in 1997. www.sentex.net/~pql . The poem was
> suggested by Susan MacRae.
>
> **********
>
> Planet Earth
>
> It has to be spread out, the skin of this planet,
> has to be ironed, the sea in its whiteness;
> and the hands keep on moving,
> smoothing the holy surfaces.
>
> In Praise of Ironing Pablo Neruda
>
> It has to be loved the way a laundress loves her
> linens,
> the way she moves her hands caressing the fine muslins
> knowing their warp and woof,
> like a lover coaxing, or a mother praising.
> It has to be loved as if it were embroidered
> with flowers and birds and two joined hearts upon it.
> It has to be stretched and stroked.
> It has to be celebrated.
> O this great beloved world and all the creatures in
> it.
> <i> It has to be spread out, the skin of this planet.
> </i>
>
> The trees must be washed, and the grasses and mosses.
> They have to be polished as if made of green brass.
> The rivers and little streams with their hidden
> cresses
> and pale-coloured pebbles
> and their fool's gold
> must be washed and starched or shined into brightness,
> the sheets of lake water
> smoothed with the hand
> and the foam of the oceans pressed into neatness.
> <i> It has to be ironed, the sea in its whiteness.
> </i>
> and pleated and goffered, the flower-blue sea
> the protean, wine-dark, grey, green, sea
> with its metres of satin and bolts of brocade.
> And sky - such an 0! overhead - night and day
> must be burnished and rubbed
> by hands that are loving
> so the blue blazons forth
> and the stars keep on shining
> within and above
> <i> and the hands keep on moving.</i>
>
> It has to be made bright, the skin of this planet
> till it shines in the sun like gold leaf.
> Archangels then will attend to its metals
> and polish the rods of its rain.
> Seraphim will stop singing hosannas
> to shower it with blessings and blisses and praises
> and, newly in love,
> we must draw it and paint it
> our pencils and brushes and loving caresses
> <i> smoothing the holy surfaces.</i>
>
> -- P.K. (Patricia Kathleen) Page
>
> Note: <i> indicates italics
> -----------
> P. K. Page was born in England and brought up on the
> Canadian prairies. She was out of the country for many
> years with her diplomat-husband, Arthur Irwin, and now
> lives in Victoria, British Columbia. She is the author
> of more than a dozen books of poetry, fiction, and
> non-fiction, including three books for children. Among
> other honours, she has won the Governor General's
> Award for poetry for "The Metal and the Flower"
> (1954). She is also a visual artist whose works are
> represented in The National Gallery of Canada and The
> Art Gallery of Ontario.
>
> P. K. Page is an Officer of the "Order of Canada," and
> holds honourary doctorates from four Canadian
> universities. The Winter 1996 number of The Malahat
> Review is a tribute to her life and work.
>
> =====
> I am closing this account.
> Please send future emails to
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