By RON PADGETT

Bastille Day

The first time I saw Paris
I went to see where the Bastille
had been, and though
I saw the column there
I was too aware that
the Bastille was not there:
I did not know how
to see the emptiness.
People go to see
the missing Twin Towers
and seem to like feeling
the lack of something.
I do not like knowing
that my mother no longer
exists, or the feeling
of knowing. Excuse me
for comparing my mother
to large buildings. Also
for talking about absence.
The red and gray sky
above the rooftops
is darkening and the inhabitants
are hastening home for dinner.
I hope to see you later.

Night Jump

At night Chinamen jump
on Asia with a thump

Who but Frank O’Hara
could have written that?
and then gone on to speak of
love and something he calls grace.
To start out so funny
and end up with mystery and grace —
we should all be so lucky.

IF GUILLAUME'S DEATH WERE CHRISTIAN by Max Jacob, Translated by Ron Padgett

I was so sure he was going to die that I wept as I did a drawing of his deathbed. I
have to admit that I also had plastic concerns. The next day he was going around
Paris, robust and sublime. One morning at Sacré-Coeur in Montmartre two large
black cats squeezed me between them. A voice said, "Don't be afraid!" Sacré-
Coeur struck me as one of those pink fortresses that decorate the tops of Italian
hills, and he, Guillaume, was like a bird with a man's head, above. Was he dead,
the dear lyric poet? My drawing wasn't finished. I ran into him as he led a group
of his disciples: was it he or Dante? Quite alive, oh for sure! Guillaume wasn't
dead. A very tall and intelligent abbot said to me, "One could not be more alive
than Guillaume Apollinaire is. But finish your drawing of his death and put my
silhouette on the lower left."

BLAISE CENDRARS translated by Ron Padgett

From Travel Notes

YOU ARE MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN THE SKY AND SEA

When you love it’s time to leave
Leave your wife leave your child
Leave your boyfriend leave your girlfriend
Leave your mistress leave your lover
When you love it’s time to leave

The world is full of black men and women
Women men men women
Look at all the nice stores
That cab that man that woman that cab
All that lovely merchandise

There’s air there’s wind
The mountains the water the sky the earth
The children the animals
The plants and the coal

Learn to sell to buy to sell again
Give take give take
When you love it’s time to know
How to sing to run to eat to drink
To whistle
And to learn to work

When you love it’s time to leave
Don’t snivel as you smile
Don’t wedge yourself between two breasts
Breathe walk leave get out

I take a bath and I look
I see the mouth I know
The hand the leg the the eye
I take a bath and I look

The whole world is always out there
Life full of surprises
I come out of the drugstore
I’ve just stepped off the scale
I weigh my 176 pounds
I love you

LETTER

You said to me if you write me
Don’t just use the typewriter
Add a line in on your own hand
A word a nothing oh a little something
Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes

But my Remington is beautiful
I really love it and the work goes well
My writing is sharp and clear
It’s very easy to see that I did the typing

There are white spaces only I know how to make
See how my page looks
Still to please you I add ink
Two or three words
And a big blot of ink
So you can’t read them

THE CAPTAIN IS A TERRIFIC GUY

All the same the captain’s a terrific guy
Yesterday he had the pool set up just for me
Today without a word and simply to please me
He swung the ship around
And skirted Fernando de Noronha so closely I could have almost picked
a bouquet

PEDOMETER

When you pace back and forth on deck…

WHY DO I WRITE?

Because…

For the Moment by Reverdy

Life is simple and gay
The bright sun rings with a quiet sound
The sound of the bells has quieted
down
This morning the light hits it all
The footlights of my head are lit again
And the room I live in is finally bright

Just one beam is enough
Just one burst of laughter
My joy that shakes the house
Restrains those wanting to die
By the notes of its song

I sing off-key
Ah it's funny
My mouth open to every breeze
Spews mad notes everywhere
That emerge I don't know how
To fly toward other ears

Listen I'm not crazy
I laugh at the bottom of the stairs
Before the wide-open door
In the sunlight scattered
On the wall among green vines
And my arms are held out toward you

It's today I love you