The shed skin

the shed skin

this is a song by the amazing poet Meir Ariel. this is an experiment in translating.

Here i chew a blade of grass,

under a rundown overpass,

above the carts go, perptual in chase

yet again i start to think

what to eat and what to drink

the interested ant has me appraise

at times of modest interval,

i fall so poor, with no morale,

fall off from the clink-clank racing wagon.

expell from furious turning reel

sinking under waves like steel,

as the ruckous in the distance , moves along.

and father always said,

neglect one day, scorned for two.

the cart goes on , never stay.

jump off of it today,

and here two.years pass,

and you are still lagging on the way.

no parachute, i freely jump

to all directions open up,

the passions , burn me, each path i take

and so in the meantime , i take rest,

as i lay whereever i find nest

above, the rising speed, will crush and break.

impovrished, poor, and past a dread,

observe the serpant as it shed,

wishing that i could, so easily proceed

if i could molt with no chagrin,

take off my culture of dried skin,

renewed , arriving, i may succeed..

a girl i had, my heart beguiled,

she was unclear, and also wild,

but not enough for to be stricken.

and with a car, I paid to chart,

i took her figure, broke her heart

and after that my longing to her deepen.

and go you , sort it through now,

how to sort it through now?

sitting under some bridge, and ruminating

who needs you now?

who remembers you now?

and the connection, are you getting?