TREASURES, SECOND REVISION Options

[Psyche]

SECOND REVISION

TREASURES

Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals bare Andean peaks,
in the evening it shimmers on pastures.
Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and wanton rock formations.

I dream that we move, side by side,
along spirals that ebb and flow
like galactic tides.
I awaken on a bed of tender leaves.
You are no longer there.

Yesterday, capricious Spring
drew aureoles on the lake.
I gathered shells
sculptured by water nymphs,
lifted twigs whose smooth fingers
dimpled sandbanks.
Stroking algae, moss, tasting froth
in hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach
under incandescent rainshowers.

You were not waiting for me.

Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I watch hurried insects,
sense humming-birds’ ardour
sipping nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.

A dogrose thrusts virile roots
deep into Mother Earth,
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs.
I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me.

I’ll carry these memories home.
Will you be waiting for me?

By Psyche






FIRST REVISION


TREASURES

Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals naked Andean peaks,
in the evening it disrobes pastures.
Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and heart-shaped hills.
I dream that you caress my cheeks
as we move, side by side,
along spirals that ebb and flow
like galactic tides.

I awaken on a bed of tender leaves.
You are no longer there.

Yesterday, capricious Spring
drew aureoles on the lake.
I gathered shells
sculptured by water nymphs
and lifted twigs whose smooth fingers
had dimpled the sandbanks.
Stroking algae, moss, tasting froth
in the hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach
under showers of incandescent rain.

You were not waiting for me.

Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insects' concerts,
sense humming-birds’ ardour
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.

A dogrose thrusts virile roots
deep into Mother Earth,
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs.
I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me.

I’ll carry these memories home.
Will you be waiting for me?

By Psyche


TREASURES

Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals naked Andean peaks,
in the evening it disrobes pastures.
Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and heart-shaped hills.
I dream that you caress my cheeks
as we move, side by side,
along spirals that ebb and flow
like galactic tides.
I awaken on a bed of tender leaves.
You are no longer there.

Yesterday, capricious Spring
drew aureoles on the lake.
I gathered shells
sculptured by water nymphs
and lifted twigs whose smooth fingers
had dimpled the sandbanks.
Stroking algae, moss, tasting froth
in the hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach
under showers of incandescent rain.
You were not waiting for me.

Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insect's concerts,
feel humming-birds’ ardour
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.

A dogrose thrusts virile roots
deep into Earth,
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs.
I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me.

I’ll not carry any treasures home.
Will you be waiting for me?

By Psyche

Copyright: Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2007.

[Arnfinn]

TREASURES

How are ya Sylvia.



Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals naked Andean peaks, Love this!
in the evening it disrobes pastures. Nah, 'disrobes' can't believe Sylv. The lightning would only disrobe 'here and there. 'in the the evening random fingers of light' perhaps.
Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and heart-shaped hills. Hmm... nice
I dream that you caress my cheeks <<< I'd leave 'I dream that' out. delete.
as we move, side by side,
along spirals that ebb and flow
like galactic tides.
I awaken on a bed of tender leaves.
You are no longer there.

Yesterday, capricious Spring <<< delete 'capricious.'

Yesterday's Spring


drew aureoles on the lake.
I gathered shells
sculptured by water nymphs
and lifted twigs whose smooth fingers
had dimpled the sandbanks.
Stroking algae, moss, tasting froth
in the hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach
under showers of incandescent rain.
You were not waiting for me.

Lovely poetry Sylvia, this is wonderful. I like this very much. Anyone reading... just take your time and absorb this beautiful passage.


Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insect's concerts,
feel humming-birds’ ardour
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me <<< Titillate, lovely word Sylvia, but ugly in a poetical sense! Perhaps, 'busy' or ? This word 'titillating' is a bad choice for the sentiment.
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.

A dogrose thrusts virile roots <<< Again, I think your overdoing it! Be simplistic. 'A dogrose thrusts roots deep into earth (no need for capita E)

deep into Earth,
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs. <<< This is good!
I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me. Very DEEP and a great lead in to the last couplet.

I’ll not carry any treasures home. Why? (my opinion) ~~~~ my ideas, memories are treasures? Explain?
Will you be waiting for me?

By Psyche

Copyright: Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2007.

How are ya Sylv,



Just played it as I saw it.


Hope ya got something out of it. (ME TRAMPING THROUGH YA OFFERING)




John.

[Psyche]

Hi John!
You're always welcome to trample on my pastures...er, offerings.
Now let me tot up the damages to send in my bill.

TREASURES

How are ya Sylvia.



Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals naked Andean peaks, Love this! Thank you.
in the evening it disrobes pastures. Nah, 'disrobes' can't believe Sylv. The lightning would only disrobe 'here and there. 'in the the evening random fingers of light' perhaps.
[b]I'll mull over this, John. The poem is an attempted mix of nature and sensuality.I'll see what I can do to please ya...
Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and heart-shaped hills. Hmm... nice Thanks!
I dream that you caress my cheeks <<< I'd leave 'I dream that' out. delete.
Could be, John, I'll take this into account.
as we move, side by side,
along spirals that ebb and flow
like galactic tides.
I awaken on a bed of tender leaves.
You are no longer there.



Yesterday, capricious Spring <<< delete 'capricious.'
Why? Spring is quite capricious.. I'll see....

Yesterday's Spring


drew aureoles on the lake.
I gathered shells
sculptured by water nymphs
and lifted twigs whose smooth fingers
had dimpled the sandbanks.
Stroking algae, moss, tasting froth
in the hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach
under showers of incandescent rain.
You were not waiting for me.

Lovely poetry Sylvia, this is wonderful. I like this very much. Anyone reading... just take your time and absorb this beautiful passage.
Ooooooo, John, coming from you, these are heady words!


Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insect's concerts,
feel humming-birds’ ardour
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me <<< Titillate, lovely word Sylvia, but ugly in a poetical sense! Perhaps, 'busy' or ? This word 'titillating' is a bad choice for the sentiment.
OK, I'll think it over, thank you, John
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.

A dogrose thrusts virile roots <<< Again, I think your overdoing it! Be simplistic. 'A dogrose thrusts roots deep into earth (no need for capita E)
Again, "virile" is part of the sensuality of the whole picture...I'll think about this, John.

deep into Earth, I Capitalized to remind us that Earth is feminine, John.
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs. <<< This is good! Thank you!
I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me. Very DEEP and a great lead in to the last couplet.

I’ll not carry any treasures home. Why? (my opinion) ~~~~ my ideas, memories are treasures? Explain?
Will you be waiting for me?

Yes, I suppose memories would be treasures. I meant that I'd not carry any of Nature's offerings back, but I'll have to think about this, John. Thanks.

By Psyche

Copyright: Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2007.
[/b]

How are ya Sylv,



Just played it as I saw it.


Hope ya got something out of it. (ME TRAMPING THROUGH YA OFFERING)

I've gotten lots out of your crit! It's so helpful to learn how others capture one's intended meaning. It's often complicated...yeah....and I'll not send in the bill, rather you should bill ME.. Cheers, Syl ***


John.

[Arnfinn]

Hi John!
You're always welcome to trample on my pastures...er, offerings.
Now let me tot up the damages to send in my bill.

TREASURES

How are ya Sylvia.



Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals naked Andean peaks, Love this! Thank you.
in the evening it disrobes pastures. Nah, 'disrobes' can't believe Sylv. The lightning would only disrobe 'here and there. 'in the the evening random fingers of light' perhaps.
[b]I'll mull over this, John. The poem is an attempted mix of nature and sensuality.I'll see what I can do to please ya...

Ya know what I'm Like Sylvia, I'm hard to get along with at times. Now I see ya point re: disrobes Something like a 'fan dance'

So I changes me mind.

Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and heart-shaped hills. Hmm... nice Thanks!
I dream that you caress my cheeks <<< I'd leave 'I dream that' out. delete.
Could be, John, I'll take this into account.
as we move, side by side,
along spirals that ebb and flow
like galactic tides.
I awaken on a bed of tender leaves.
You are no longer there.



Yesterday, capricious Spring <<< delete 'capricious.'
Why? Spring is quite capricious.. I'll see....

Yesterday's Spring

Yeah, I can be capricious at times: capricious, is a pleasant word. Spring, (in its unpredictable way drawing wind circles on the lake), captures the imagination. Maybe... its 'Yesterday' that threw me off 'past tense'. Anyway Sylv, as I said a lovely passage.


drew aureoles on the lake.
I gathered shells
sculptured by water nymphs
and lifted twigs whose smooth fingers
had dimpled the sandbanks.
Stroking algae, moss, tasting froth
in the hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach
under showers of incandescent rain.
You were not waiting for me.

Lovely poetry Sylvia, this is wonderful. I like this very much. Anyone reading... just take your time and absorb this beautiful passage.
Ooooooo, John, coming from you, these are heady words!


Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insect's concerts,
feel humming-birds’ ardour
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me <<< Titillate, lovely word Sylvia, but ugly in a poetical sense! Perhaps, 'busy' or ? This word 'titillating' is a bad choice for the sentiment.
OK, I'll think it over, thank you, John
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.

Dear me, I can be hard at times! I read further down about your intent to bring sensuality into nature.
I do very often miss the point. Sorry about that.


A dogrose thrusts virile roots <<< Again, I think your overdoing it! Be simplistic. 'A dogrose thrusts roots deep into earth (no need for capita E)
Again, "virile" is part of the sensuality of the whole picture...I'll think about this, John.

Ah, thank you for the explanation.

deep into Earth, I Capitalized to remind us that Earth is feminine, John. Ha, sensuous indeed.
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs. <<< This is good! Thank you!
I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me. Very DEEP and a great lead in to the last couplet.

I’ll not carry any treasures home. Why? (my opinion) ~~~~ my ideas, memories are treasures? Explain?
Will you be waiting for me?

Yes, I suppose memories would be treasures. I meant that I'd not carry any of Nature's offerings back, but I'll have to think about this, John. Thanks.

By Psyche

Copyright: Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2007.
[/b]

How are ya Sylv,



Just played it as I saw it.


Hope ya got something out of it. (ME TRAMPING THROUGH YA OFFERING)

I've gotten lots out of your crit! It's so helpful to learn how others capture one's intended meaning. It's often complicated...yeah....and I'll not send in the bill, rather you should bill ME.. Cheers, Syl ***


John.

Well, Sylvia, my critique worked very well. Now I have a full understanding of your poem. The whole interaction, has unravelled the pertinent points. A subtle reference to love and nature.

I look forward to your revision.


John

[Ephiny]

Hi Sylvia!!

I think this is just beautiful..love, nature and memory and some gorgeous images. I really love

I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach
under showers of incandescent rain.

So true!

I think John's suggestions are great too and will enhance the wonderful language you use to convey the beauty of the spring scenes and what you are seeing and sensing...the image of the water nymphs is perfect. There is such a poignancy to it amidst the beauty..you let your reader see and feel everything that you are.

This was lovely..I'll be back to read it again and again!

Lucie

[Psyche]

Well, Sylvia, my critique worked very well. Now I have a full understanding of your poem. The whole interaction, has unravelled the pertinent points. A subtle reference to love and nature.

I look forward to your revision.


John

Hi John!
I do apologize for the delay in answering and/or revising. You've been so very helpful indeed, because if I have to explain about sensuality in Nature -in my poem- then I think perhaps I haven't put my point across and should do a lot of thinking over your remarks.
I'm glad you know what I mean now, with our interchange. Now that I remember, I have a book on my shelf called "The Feminization of Nature", by a well-known biologist.
Anyway, I hope to do my homework with all these hols coming up (we also have a hol on Monday 2nd., to commemorate the day a certain drunken general took a handful of troops to some windswept islands in the South Atlantic, which Britain claims as her own, and we dispute). That's the way things go, John, nobody cares whether Mother Earth has a gender, everybody is just out for grabs of terrain.... :-(
Thanks and cheers,
Syl ***

[Psyche]

Hi Lucie!
I'm so glad to hear from you again! I believe you haven't been around MM lately? Hope all is well and that life is treating you very kindly indeed..

I'm also delighted that you dropped by to comment on my poem, since I learn so much from you, especially regarding the mystical aspect of life and the world.

I've also been an erratic visitor to MM, due to personal stuff. Life has a way of putting obstacles, but so long as one surmounts them eventually, then I'm content.

I shall now peep to see whether you've posted anything, I know it'll be a pleasure for me.

Hugs, Syl ***




Hi Sylvia!!

I think this is just beautiful..love, nature and memory and some gorgeous images. I really love

I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach
under showers of incandescent rain.

So true! Thank you, Lucie...

I think John's suggestions are great too and will enhance the wonderful language you use to convey the beauty of the spring scenes and what you are seeing and sensing...the image of the water nymphs is perfect. There is such a poignancy to it amidst the beauty..you let your reader see and feel everything that you are.

This was lovely..I'll be back to read it again and again! Again, thank you!
Lucie

[Eisa]

Hi Sylvia

You have some stunning imagery here -- this is so beautiful, yet so much can be read beneath the layers.

I love

Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insects' concerts,
sense humming-birds’ ardour
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.


Titillating is such a descriptive word.

and

A dogrose thrusts virile roots
deep into Mother Earth,
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs.
I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me.

Your revision seems perfect to me, but I'll give this a closer look when I have time. I am going to nominate it for this months IBPC.

Good Luck!

Snow

[Psyche]

Hi Snow!
I'm so glad you like my poem. Yes, I aimed at fusing Nature and love in this work, but maybe it has some other layers that I don't myself know of...
Thank you so much for thinking of this poem for the nominations, Snow.
Hugs, Syl ***

Hi Sylvia

You have some stunning imagery here -- this is so beautiful, yet so much can be read beneath the layers.
Thank you...
I love

Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insects' concerts,
sense humming-birds’ ardour
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.


Titillating is such a descriptive word. I wondered about it, but just plunged in....
and

A dogrose thrusts virile roots
deep into Mother Earth,
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs.
I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me.

Your revision seems perfect to me, but I'll give this a closer look when I have time. I am going to nominate it for this months IBPC. Thank you, again, Snow...
Good Luck!

Snow

[Cleo_Serapis]

HI Sylvia.

Wow - what a fantastic poem! I enjoyed the imagery and the sadness in the ending - questions of what will come to her as she gets home. The multi-meanings are poignant.

I have jotted down a few notes for you below to ponder as you wish.

HUGS
~Cleo

[add] {delete}


Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals naked Andean peaks{,} [;]
in the evening it disrobes pastures.
Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and heart-shaped hills.
I dream {that} [of] you caress[ing] my cheeks
as we move, side by side,
along spirals that ebb and flow
like galactic tides.

I awaken on a bed of tender leaves.
You are no longer there.

Yesterday, capricious Spring (lowercase s)
drew aureoles on the lake.
I gathered shells
sculptured by water nymphs
and lifted twigs whose smooth fingers
had dimpled the sandbanks.
Stroking algae, moss, tasting froth
in the hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
{but they forgot} [forgetting] their beauty on the beach
under showers of incandescent rain.
(FANTASTIC IMAGERY!)

You were not waiting for me.

Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insects' concerts,
sense humming-birds’ ardour
as they sip nectar from half-open[ed] buds.
Their titillating wings remind me
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.

A [D]ogrose thrusts virile roots
deep into Mother Earth, (no comma needed)
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs.
I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me.

I’ll carry these memories home.
Will you be waiting for me?
FANTASTIC!

[Arnfinn]

Yeah, Sylv,

I'm coming back to check this out.

I'll be back tomorrow.


I want to take me time with mother,sister,grandma, aunty and niece.




John

[Arnfinn]

Ok, Sylv,

I'm not hard to get along with, so my friend, read my ideas as how, I see things, reading your poetry line by line.

My comments, may differ from the pluperfect.


TREASURES

Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals naked Andean peaks,
in the evening it disrobes pastures.
Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and heart-shaped hills.<<< Why heart-shaped? A misnomer in my mind-sight. Do you mean the top section of a graphic heart? If you doo, heart-shaped is incorrect. John
I dream that you caress my cheeks<<
as we move, side by side,<<
along spirals that ebb and flow<<
like galactic tides.<< Now, these four lines I find pleasant, does galactic mean 'out of this world?' John

I awaken on a bed of tender leaves.
You are no longer there.

Yesterday, capricious Spring<<
drew aureoles on the lake.<<
I gathered shells<<
sculptured by water nymphs<<
and lifted twigs whose smooth fingers<<
had dimpled the sandbanks.<< I think these lines are very imaginative: especially, capricious spring dropping leaves into the lake and making rings in the water. (aureoles- similar to aureoles on a woman's breast or a man's. ( though I consider Spring feminine in gender[German]) John
Stroking algae, moss, tasting froth
in the hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach
under showers of incandescent rain. <<< incandescent means: 1 glowing 2 hot. incantation means: magic spell. John

You were not waiting for me.

Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insects' concerts,
sense humming-birds’ ardour
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.<<< This is beautiful (a much overused word ['beautiful']), mate. A very good stanza. John

A dogrose thrusts virile roots
deep into Mother Earth,
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs.
I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me. <<< I got into a lot of trouble,last time, with THIS stanza. Perchance to say. VERY gOOD. Otherwise, no comment. John

I’ll carry these memories home.
Will you be waiting for me? <<< Lovely finish.


There ya are, Sylv.


I must add, your talent shines through, very enjoyable.

Your Aussie mate.


John

[Psyche]

That's right, John, family first!!!
I hope you had a good time. You probably don't remember by now, but I'm a slow 'un to answer.
See ya,
Syl ***

Yeah, Sylv,

I'm coming back to check this out.

I'll be back tomorrow.


I want to take me time with mother,sister,grandma, aunty and niece.




John

[Psyche]

Deary me, John, you already HAD returned, my mind is downright stupid.
Let's see what ya wrote....

Ok, Sylv,

I'm not hard to get along with, so my friend, read my ideas as how, I see things, reading your poetry line by line.

My comments, may differ from the pluperfect.

You make me laugh, John, so your comments are pluperfect enough for me!
I get along fine with them.

TREASURES

Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals naked Andean peaks,
in the evening it disrobes pastures.

Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and heart-shaped hills.<<< Why heart-shaped? A misnomer in my mind-sight. Do you mean the top section of a graphic heart? If you doo, heart-shaped is incorrect. John

What a quandary, John. To tell the truth, the Mapuche (original dwellers of Patagonia), called some of these strangely shaped rock formations "breasts", "phalluses", and other similar terms. It's a place called "Enchanted Valley", a sub-Andean region that borders a beautiful, crytalline river.
You're right, they're not even hills. And it would be the upper half of the heart, I suppose. What to do?

I dream that you caress my cheeks<<
as we move, side by side,<<

along spirals that ebb and flow<<
like galactic tides.<< Now, these four lines I find pleasant, does galactic mean 'out of this world?' John

Yes, John. But galactic comes from the Gk. galacta, galaktus, meaning 'milk'. So it sort of fits in with the sensual tone I'm trying to achieve....you know , flowing tides of milk...ugh....I'm not very fond of milk, myself, except with chocolate...haha...

I awaken on a bed of tender leaves.
You are no longer there.

Yesterday, capricious Spring<<
drew aureoles on the lake.<<
I gathered shells<<
sculptured by water nymphs<<
and lifted twigs whose smooth fingers<<
had dimpled the sandbanks.<< I think these lines are very imaginative: especially, capricious spring dropping leaves into the lake and making rings in the water. (aureoles- similar to aureoles on a woman's breast or a man's. ( though I consider Spring feminine in gender[German]) John

Thank you, John. Spring is feminine in Spanish, anyway!

troking algae, moss, tasting froth
in the hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach

under showers of incandescent rain. <<< incandescent means: 1 glowing 2 hot. incantation means: magic spell. John

I mean 'glowing', is that OK?

You were not waiting for me.

Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insects' concerts,
sense humming-birds’ ardour
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me
of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.<<< This is beautiful (a much overused word ['beautiful']), mate. A very good stanza. John

Oooo, thanks John!

A dogrose thrusts virile roots
deep into Mother Earth,
dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs.

I taste dewdrops on my tongue
and remember your naked body,
loving me. <<< I got into a lot of trouble,last time, with THIS stanza. Perchance to say. VERY gOOD. Otherwise, no comment. John

But you are expected to say what you mean, John. If you interpret it differently, then that's important to me. Did I screech at you?! Methinks not...

I’ll carry these memories home.
Will you be waiting for me? <<< Lovely finish.

Thank you, John. I changed to 'memories' thanks to your first crit.

There ya are, Sylv.

I must add, your talent shines through, very enjoyable.

Your Aussie mate.

Made my day, Aussie mate! You're a builder-upper, as Julie Andrews sang in...whatever!

Cheers from this SIDE of the world. BTW, have you ever seen 'Peter's Map'? It shows the world with the northern hemisphere 'down under'. Cool!
Syl ***

John

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Hi Syll, For me, you are telling too much; telling us what to feel, what to see and what it means. I prefer more subtlety. Let people finish the poem themselves; let them draw their own conclusions.

I actually cringe when I come to these words you've slipped in here, as if you'd made a list and just snuck them in. eg 'naked, disrobes, caress,...'

Even if the hills are heart-shaped you have to avoid cliche and find another way of saying it. Or leave it out; what do heart-shaped hills contribute, really?

TREASURES

Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals naked Andean peaks, Does lightning reveal the mountains at dawn? Or does dawn reveal them? Are they really naked? No light and shadow, no colours, no valleys filled with bush? Is 'naked' the only thing you want to say? Is that the reason for the line?

in the evening it disrobes pastures. Disrobes. Nar. Lightning does not do this. The personification is inappropriate and inaccurate. Show me the flicker of light on fields...I will feel it on my skin.

Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and heart-shaped hills. Ok. 'Heart-shaped isn't needed though.

I dream that you caress my cheeks
as we move, side by side,
along spirals that ebb and flow why are we suddenly dreaming? Don't we usually FEEL these things linked to the beloved? The trick is to enable the reader to do that without instructions about specifics.

like galactic tides. The above translates as a straight-forward attempt to describe a sexual union. It's ok, but a bit corny. What are 'galactic tides'?

I awaken on a bed of tender leaves. tender not needed.

You are no longer there. I like this. I see the empty space and draw my own inferences.... interesting

Yesterday, capricious Spring Why 'capricious'? Why personify the season in this way and then tell us what its mood is? Just 'Spring' does it for me.

drew aureoles on the lake. Aureoles is OK. In fact I quite like it; it's original, and lightly suggestive.
I gathered shells
sculptured by water nymphs water nymphs is such a fantasy that it means nothing except to cast doubt on the commentator's grasp of reality....flight of fancy is fine, and mildly pleasing in a childlike way, but what does it add? Just that bit of fantasy?

and lifted twigs whose smooth fingers
had dimpled the sandbanks.
Stroking algae, moss, tasting froth
in the hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach This is more like it!!! YES! It shows me. I feel, I taste. I'm not sure about your suggestion that they 'forgot' (personification again) their beauty on the beach.

under showers of incandescent rain. But why did they forget their beauty under rain? And why was it incandescent? How? Why is incandescent here?
Actually, shells' true beauty is revealed when they are wet, isn't it? Show us that, then. There might be potential for second meaning here, if it is delicately handled.


You were not waiting for me. I still love this. It makes the hair rise on my neck.

Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insects' concerts, Not 'concerts' please. More personification, and I don't like to be told it's a 'concert'...images of kiddy colouring-in book cartoon charactors with violins, drums, trumpet etc do not fit. Besides, insect concerts are sooo done, such a cliche.

sense humming-birds' ardour Ardour?
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me How are hummingbirds' wings titillating? Please don't tell me what their wings remind you off. Make me feel it. Show me a single bird's excitement, the touch of its wings, its tongue, the dewiness of blossom, ........ you have the skill, I know it.

of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.

A dogrose thrusts virile roots Not virile. I get the idea without the bludgeon.
deep into Mother Earth, Where else would they be?

dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs.
I taste dewdrops on my tongue YES! Here we go. I feel this, taste the dew. See the difference? I am IN your poem, translating it occording to my own experiences. Cool.


and remember your naked body,
loving me.

I’ll carry these memories home.
Will you be waiting for me? I like the finish re him/her waiting. It binds the whole poem together. Am undecided about the naked body loving you. It's OK here, I think.

By Psyche

So, I ripped into this, didn't I? But its a compliment, really. You have the talent, Psyche. Once you break out of 'tell' and get into 'show' you will shine.

Hope this is helpful. Offered in the spirit of helpfulness,

Kathy.

[Psyche]

Hi Kathy, you certainly came in here like a bulldozer, tho' your comments are in the spirit of helpfulness...
Thanks for the energy you've put into your crit, which has some useful points for me (can't please everybody). Prior to your input, I'd already been studying some of them, from other people's point of view. For one, the 'heart-shaped hills'. Tho' you may not visualize them, they actually exist in Patagonia, in some exotic rock formations. I guess I'll change the word 'hill' in my next revision.
At the moment, I can't wend my way thru' all your suggestions/questions and answer them individually, especially as I find a few inconsistencies which would get me all entangled. Sorry there!
The personifications are all intentional. I'll check the cliches.
Must be off now, I have to work at a boring translation
Thanks a lot,
Syl

Hi Syll, For me, you are telling too much; telling us what to feel, what to see and what it means. I prefer more subtlety. Let people finish the poem themselves; let them draw their own conclusions.

I actually cringe when I come to these words you've slipped in here, as if you'd made a list and just snuck them in. eg 'naked, disrobes, caress,...'

Even if the hills are heart-shaped you have to avoid cliche and find another way of saying it. Or leave it out; what do heart-shaped hills contribute, really?

TREASURES

Spring lightning!
At dawn it reveals naked Andean peaks, Does lightning reveal the mountains at dawn? Or does dawn reveal them? Are they really naked? No light and shadow, no colours, no valleys filled with bush? Is 'naked' the only thing you want to say? Is that the reason for the line?

I'm only writing about the peaks, Kathy. In Patagonia, the high peaks are often bare (no vegetation, nor snow in Spring). On a cloudy dawn, some peaks would be revealed by lightning.

in the evening it disrobes pastures. Disrobes. Nar. Lightning does not do this. The personification is inappropriate and inaccurate. Show me the flicker of light on fields...I will feel it on my skin.

Nar. I can't answer all of this. I give up here. Thanks all the same.

Threads of rain reflect rainbows
between lake and heart-shaped hills. Ok. 'Heart-shaped isn't needed though.

I dream that you caress my cheeks
as we move, side by side,
along spirals that ebb and flow why are we suddenly dreaming? Don't we usually FEEL these things linked to the beloved? The trick is to enable the reader to do that without instructions about specifics.

like galactic tides. The above translates as a straight-forward attempt to describe a sexual union. It's ok, but a bit corny. What are 'galactic tides'?

I awaken on a bed of tender leaves. tender not needed.

You are no longer there. I like this. I see the empty space and draw my own inferences.... interesting

Yesterday, capricious Spring Why 'capricious'? Why personify the season in this way and then tell us what its mood is? Just 'Spring' does it for me.

drew aureoles on the lake. Aureoles is OK. In fact I quite like it; it's original, and lightly suggestive.
I gathered shells
sculptured by water nymphs water nymphs is such a fantasy that it means nothing except to cast doubt on the commentator's grasp of reality....flight of fancy is fine, and mildly pleasing in a childlike way, but what does it add? Just that bit of fantasy?

and lifted twigs whose smooth fingers
had dimpled the sandbanks.
Stroking algae, moss, tasting froth
in the hollows of my treasures,
I carried them home,
but they forgot their beauty on the beach This is more like it!!! YES! It shows me. I feel, I taste. I'm not sure about your suggestion that they 'forgot' (personification again) their beauty on the beach.

under showers of incandescent rain. But why did they forget their beauty under rain? And why was it incandescent? How? Why is incandescent here?
Actually, shells' true beauty is revealed when they are wet, isn't it? Show us that, then. There might be potential for second meaning here, if it is delicately handled.


You were not waiting for me. I still love this. It makes the hair rise on my neck.

Today, I lie in the shade
of a blossoming apple-tree.
I listen to insects' concerts, Not 'concerts' please. More personification, and I don't like to be told it's a 'concert'...images of kiddy colouring-in book cartoon charactors with violins, drums, trumpet etc do not fit. Besides, insect concerts are sooo done, such a cliche.

sense humming-birds' ardour Ardour?
as they sip nectar from half-open buds.
Their titillating wings remind me How are hummingbirds' wings titillating? Please don't tell me what their wings remind you off. Make me feel it. Show me a single bird's excitement, the touch of its wings, its tongue, the dewiness of blossom, ........ you have the skill, I know it.

of your lips, your soft skin,
of you.

A dogrose thrusts virile roots Not virile. I get the idea without the bludgeon.
deep into Mother Earth, Where else would they be?

dropping petals from its branches
around my thighs.
I taste dewdrops on my tongue YES! Here we go. I feel this, taste the dew. See the difference? I am IN your poem, translating it occording to my own experiences. Cool.


and remember your naked body,
loving me.

I’ll carry these memories home.
Will you be waiting for me? I like the finish re him/her waiting. It binds the whole poem together. Am undecided about the naked body loving you. It's OK here, I think.

By Psyche

So, I ripped into this, didn't I? But its a compliment, really. You have the talent, Psyche. Once you break out of 'tell' and get into 'show' you will shine.

Hope this is helpful. Offered in the spirit of helpfulness,

Kathy.