I Wanna See

Peek

To peek the sea. It is ever-changing, I wanna see. If it is Homer’s wine-dark, or Joyce’s snotgreen or maybe Brodsky’s gray zincous waves are forever dashing. And how does it sound today? The monotonous rhythmic sound of the waves are tattooed on thoughts of a heroine in Virginia Woolf’s story, or so she says. It soothes as measured tacts. In “Iliad” the sea murmurs. But in the roar of the sea Lord Byron heard music and mingled with the Universe at the beach. Let’s go, let’s peek. Beach is so white, my eyes hurt. Just like for Hemingway’s old man, who saw Africa in his dreams. Let’s go, let’s peek the sea.

“I look up and down: there’s no difference above or below. The sea is full of stars; the stars are full of the sea.”

Philip Hoare “Risingtidefallingstar”, 2017

***

Palūrēt jūru. Tā mainās, gribu redzēt. Vai tā Homēra tumšvīna, vai Džoisa puņķuzaļa, bet varbūt šķeļas Brodska cinka viļņi? Un kā tā skan. Viļņu monotonais ritms ir ietetovēts Virdžīnijas Vulfas varones domās, tā viņa saka. Nomierina kā nomērītas taktis. “Iliādā” jūra murmina. Bet jūras rēcienā Lords Bairons saklausīja mūziku un pludmalē samaisījās ar Visumu. Jāaiziet, jāpalūr. Pludmale tik žilbinoši balta, ka acis sāp. Kā Hemingveja sirmgalvim laivā, kurš sapņos redzēja Āfriku. Jāpalūr.

“Paveros uz augšu un leju: nav atšķirības virs vai zem. Jūra pilna zvaigžņu; zvaigznes pilnas ar jūru.”

Philip Hoare “Risingtidefallingstar”, 2017

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