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the art of contraction

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At first he thinks the entire meadow in its abundance belongs to him, with all its thousands of green surprises. Then he realizes that he can’t bear such chaos. True, the grass blades aren’t very high, they reach no farther than his knees, maybe just his ankles, and yet they are a labyrinth, twisted, deceptive. There is not a single path, and thus an infinity of paths: free to choose any direction he wishes, he is irretrievably lost.

Well then, he chooses contraction. Not a meadow, but a patch of lawn. Not even that, but three blades of grass. Not three, not even one (and this, he feels, is the crux of the matter), not even a single blade of grass, but the picture of one. This is the essence.

Finally, after he hangs it on the wall, he understands: this painted blade of grass, which implies the entire meadow, also denies the en­tire meadow.

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el arte de reducir

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Primero cree que el prado en toda su abundancia es suyo, entero, con innúmeras sorpresas verdes. Luego sabe que no puede vivir con tanta confusión. Cierto, la hierba no es muy alta, le llega a la rodilla, quizá sólo al tobillo. Pero es un laberinto, sin embargo, y engañoso. No hay un sendero único; hay miles de senderos. Puede ir adonde quiera. Se pierde.

Así que elige reducir. No un prado, sólo una porción de césped. Ni siquiera eso, sólo tres briznas de hierba. Tres no, ni siquiera una (y esto, siente, es la almendra del asunto), ni una brizna siquiera, mejor un cuadro de una brizna. Esta es la esencia.

Por fin, lo cuelga en la pared, comprende. Esta brizna de hierba incluye todo el prado, borra todo el prado también.

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Pagis Dan

(Poems. English. Selections]

The selected poetry of Dan Pagis /

translated by Stephen Mitchell; with an introduction by Robert Alter.

 (Literature of the Middle East)

Originally published; Variable directions. San Francisco:

North Point Press* 1989.

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