The Oudayas Gardens, Afternoon
Hugh Harter has been sharing his poetry at the Hoots since
September. In November he delighted all
ears with a rhythmic rendering of his poem "The Countess and the Gigolo." In
December he painted
this lush Moroccan garden for us:
The Oudayas Gardens, Afternoon
Beneath the bougainvillea sit blind beggars, cowls upturned
As if to shield their sightless eyes from sun they've never seen.
They hear the children's cries, the chatter of veiled women.
Can they smell the banks of flowers
Which I draw in red, and blue, and green?
This is the afternoon.
Where do they go when keepers close Oudayas' gates?
I go to my villa in the town, walls, turrets, blossoms in my head,
I breathe the heavy scent of jasmine as the evening falls.
I lie abed and rhapsodize lush gardens, houris, and exotic sights.
Where do you find repose, old beggar?
Is your bed the cobbled street, your sweet perfume
The urine of the lowly ass? Or do you find
That sleep brings sight, and all the cries, the smells,
The colors that are lost by day, through Allah's grace
Are given birth in dreams at night?-- Hugh A. Harter
Jean Genet observed that the gardener is the loveliest rose in his garden. Harter here confirms Genet by working the foreground of flower, perfume, and cry from the street into the blind beggar's dreams. Without for a second blinding himself to the scent of the urine stained cobbles, he focuses our eyes on the possibility that even the wretched of this earth may blossom in the dark. They were invisible to us. Now we see. Poetry matters. -- JP
"The Oudayas Gardens, Afternoon" copyright 2003 by Hugh A. Harter. Hugh is a new citizen of Portsmouth, fresh from years of living/working in Manhattan, Madrid, and Segovia. He is a painter, poet, and pianist. Among his publications are translations of Nobel Laureate Vicente Aleixandre's Shadow of Paradise and the El Buscon of Quevedo. Soon to be published is his bilingual edition of Juan Ramon Jimenez's Diary of a Newly Wed Poet.
Note: Poems from The Poetry Hoot should not exceed nineteen lines.
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