Baggy-arsed country

Jacques Moulin

 

translated by David Ball

A defense of high walls
soft sea lawn
the caress of the grass
strawberries in the garden
an enclosure before it drops
the retreat of the cliffs
cliff a grill of black flint
only awaiting its mackerel.
When the sea pushes in
when the cart on its back raises its shafts
welcome to flax and apple
turn to dizziness, pouring fall
a pocket close, the eye split
endurance and tilt
kidneyshaped stones
urine rumbling en route for a run of froth
a manufacture of pebbles
unscrupulous valley
chip the cliff’s edges, efface the bulge
the cliff gaping
and boasting its gape

DAVID BALL is an English poet and translator living in France.

JACQUES MOULIN is the author of many slim volumes of verse, often produced in collaboration with visual artists. Normandy and the coastline of northwestern France are constant inspirations in his work. The poem in this issue is from the pamphlet Un galet dans la bouche (2017).


image: Gustave, Courbet, The Étretat Cliffs after the Storm, 1870