Jenne' Andrews is an American poet. She has three published chapbooks including the recent Blackbirds Dance in the Empire of Love, Finishing Line Press 2013.

A full-length collection, Reunion, Lynx House Press, was published in 1983; after a long hiatus to raise Golden Retrievers in Colorado, recent work has appeared in The Passionate Transitory, Belletrist Coterie, The Adirondack Review and Vox Populi, a journal of culture, politics and poetry published and edited by the august Michael Simms.

A bilingual collection of "Italiana," Bocca, Voce, Delirio, with translations by Lorenzo Luciani, will be released by Finishing Line at the end of 2016 and her latest collection, And Now, the Road, a finalist for the Autumn House prize in 2014, will be released by Salmon Poetry Ltd, Ireland, a highly regarded international house, Jessie Lendennie, Publisher, circa 2017.

Andrews holds the MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry from Colorado State University, is a literary fellow of the National Endowment for the Arts, and was full-time Poet in Residence for the St. Paul Schools from '74-78. She lived in St. Paul from 1971-78 during the first wave of the Twin Cities literary renaissance, and spent the summer of 1973 in Reggio Calabria, Italy.

The poet lives in northern Colorado's Poudre River Valley with her husband, fiction writer Jack Brooks; the couple has recently imported two British Golden Retrievers and expects a litter in June-- see the Ardorgold website for details. Contact: jenneandrews2010@gmail.com .

Saturday, May 28, 2011

A True Lyric for Saturday & for One Shot....

De cet affreux combat je sors l'âme brisée!
Mais enfin je suis libre et je pourrai du moins
Soupirer sans contrainte et souffrir sans témoins
Pleurez! pleurez mes yeux! tombez triste rosée..

 “Pluerez! Pleurez mes yeux! – Act III Le Cid, Jules Massenet*
Weep, weep les fleures.  Someone has been left behind
Someone with the voice of a mocking bird
Someone with the pen of a Tolstoy

Weep les fleures, weep out your rainy chansons
Break, heart.  Why steel yourself; why seam 
Yourself together.  Break

And in the breaking, the earth reveals
her briny sorrows--
clouds over the rippling sun
The tapping feet of hungry foals
The weariness of owls

Mourn, as only the moon can mourn.  Someone
Has been left alone.  Alone like a camellia
In a green glade

Alone, the lily in the still grey pool

Weep mes yeux—weep out the years
The terrors, the dearth

The death of love upon the earth
The fading of the light--

There is one who loved the world
Who gave herself to the world
Who was defiled by the world
Who was abandoned by the world

Weep, mes yeux
Et les fleures sont plus ouevertes.

Weep my eyes
For the flowers in full bloom, plus sont ouevertes...

And the arrogance of their laughing red mouths--
Et l' arrogance de leur bouche en riant

--Jenne' R. Andrews

(trans. fr. French: My heart is broken by internal strife

but I am free and can my misery bear
in secret with no witness to my tears
weep weep my eyes, for this spent life.)

Trans. jra

Copyright May 28 2011 Jenne' Andrews


Victoria said...

Merveilleux. I enjoyed the blend of French and English and the poignant mood you create.

Alegria Imperial said...

Mes yeux bleues
mes yeux gris
pleurez mes yeux

no one weeps in the rain
the sun hides to drink from your eyes
lets you pour

the sea awaits
dry with salt the corals dredged
weep, salt the oceans

your tears bear
silver for the moon
gold becomes only the sun

pleurez mes yeux pour les fleures
or they wilt from petals drained
lend your tears

you are not of flesh
but of sorrow for the oak
sheds skin not tears

pleure, mon amour, pleure
pleurez mes yeux

What have you done, Jenne? I'm turning out to be your echo! What a marvelous poem! Please forgive me!