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This poem is taken from PN Review 248, Volume 45 Number 6, July - August 2019.

Three Poems Stav Poleg

In French: ‘la caméra.’ In German –
‘die Kamera.’ Not every word translates unexpectedly, but look
at this: The sonnet is a monument of praise, a field of play, a chamber
of sudden change
. In the heatwave of 2003, Hyde Park
turned yellow – not of mango sorbet
but the colour of absence. I went for the blue
leaf, the turquoise-green pond against a moon, The Penguin
Book of the Sonnet. (A short film I wasn’t thinking about
then: a boy running after a spinning-blue globe – the home
movie I can’t watch again – it was
lost – so I’m watching it anyway, here, in the city
I landed into that June –  my summer of sudden
change.) In French – ‘le changement.’ In Italian –
‘lo cambiamento.’ This isn’t helpful, but how about
that – ice cubes break into espresso / a sound installation

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