A Tri-Lingual Tribute to the poet John Ashbery
We once
asked John Ashbery, who has been a great supporter of The Bow-Wow Shop, why the Germans in particular loved his poetry so
much, and he replied 'They never said'. This evening, wholly in the spirit of
that response, and by way of a tribute to John Ashbery, who is currently striding
manfully through his eighty-third year, and writing as playfully and as
prolifically as ever, we are going to present a short poem of his entitled
'This Room' in a variety of tongues.
This Room
The room
I entered was a dream of this room.
Surely
all those feet on the sofa were mine.
The oval
portrait
of a dog
was me at an early age.
Something
shimmers, something is hushed up.
We had
macaroni for lunch every day
except
Sunday, when a small quail was induced
to be
served to us. Why do I tell you these things?
You are
not even here.