Fontan

14.5 Fontan // Stars of Natural Law     Jennifer

2

Las estrellas comportan un hábito en la noche.

Una ley escrita entre las hojas del otońo,

en el centro irrevocable de los pájaros.

Las estrellas comportan un hábito en la noche.

Aunque pronuncies ahora el adiós que alimentas.

Y sobre el mar te deshojes,

hacia un mutuo silencio.

 

The stars bear a custom in the night.

A law written among the leaves of autumn,

in the irrevocable center of birds.

The stars bear a custom in the night.

Though you now say the good-bye you nourish.

And over the sea you shed your leaves,

to mutual silence.

HOWEVER, I don’t understand who "you" is in the poem. Is it the reader? The stars? The birds? The law itself? A tree? This part of the poem confuses me and doesn’t seem to fit into my interpretation.

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14.5 Reply to Jen and Adam // Stars of Natural Law    Scott

2

Las estrellas comportan un hábito en la noche.

Una ley escrita entre las hojas del otońo,

en el centro irrevocable de los pájaros.

Las estrellas comportan un hábito en la noche.

Aunque pronuncies ahora el adiós que alimentas.

Y sobre el mar te deshojes,

hacia un mutuo silencio.

 

The stars bear a custom in the night.

A law written among the leaves of autumn,

in the irrevocable center of birds.

The stars bear a custom in the night.

Though you now say the good-bye you nourish.

And over the sea you shed your leaves,

to mutual silence.

To me, the custom of these stars is to watch over the turning of the clock on our planet and perhaps other planets as well. They are the observers of the natural law, one "written among the leaves of autumn", which are the leaves that are dead upon the ground in shriveled color, or near death, clinging desperately to their individual branches, hoping to survive the oncoming frosts. Death is an "irrevocable" part of life, observable by all who choose to look. The stars are an example of that observant nature, singing in the blackness of night, lighting the laws at work below. These natural laws, though sad and seemingly desperate "nourish" the ground with the nutrients of their dead, saying "good-bye" in order to bring more to life. The leaves return to reinforce the theme of autumn’s inevitable death.

Jennifer, I think you are correct to see the natural law in this poem, that is, Fontan is looking to pattern his life around the rules of physics and the ways of living creatures. I wanted to add a couple of my insights. First, the repetition of the first line lends the poem a circular quality, as if it is making two circles, each one beginning with that line. That lead me to think of the Dharma Chakra of Buddhist thought, which is the "Wheel of Life" or the "Wheel of Law". The Buddha set this wheel spinning with his first sermon. (I also noticed the Aboriginal concept of "Dream Time" in the first of these poems, and I wonder how global this poet is and how much I am just putting words in his mouth).

The second point follows along the wheel, and that is death and re-birth. I differ from you in the imagery of the leaves, I see them not as wanting to hold on, but gladly dying and being re-born in the Earth. I think the "you" is the reader, who now understands the cyclical nature of the law and is no longer afraid of death. This has been growing in him or her all along, he has been nourishing this understanding. The good-bye is the release of the self. And at the end, I feel a transcendental touch, as we look far across a sea to see the enlightened figure, who is in a mutual, a shared, a common, and agreeable silence (no more need be said, the lesson is learned) with all of life.

HOWEVER, I don’t understand who "you" is in the poem. Is it the reader? The stars? The birds? The law itself? A tree? This part of the poem confuses me and doesn’t seem to fit into my interpretation.

 

It was groovy reading the dialogue between Jen and Adam in regards to this poem. Gustavo was a good guy. I was glad to see that he had thought--or was still thinking--about many of the same questions that we discuss in class. It was also good to see that we're covering many of the poets that Gustavo had used for influences. I feel like I belong to a club of poet people--a club that I did not know about until I joined. Anyway, I just wanted to make a couple of comments. I think Adam had a nice insight into the repetition of the line about the stars bearing their custom in the night. Not only does this give the poem a circular quality, but it also makes me think about life as a circle and how the earth is a continual circle of the sun. It is "customary" for such things to happen. From the earth our bodies begin, and to the earth our bodies return. Moreover, I liked Jen's idea about death being an "irrevocable part of life. I guess this poem gives me a feeling of loneliness, one that puts into perspective the role of the human being in the world. When we die, we must say our good-by, yet we continue on through others and because of the natural laws of the universe. Our souls never leave the world, though our human voices may be silenced for eternity. Perhaps Gustavo had in mind that we become one with the stars when life meets its end. Stars always nourish and watch over the land below, though we have little information on them and have yet to travel to one. Stars are a mystery, but they are customary in the night. Even though it is assumed that they should shine forth, we only hear their silence. I find the image of the sea to be striking as well. I associate the sea with isolation. When it is dark out and I go down to a lake to look at the sky, I can see the stars better and come to a better grasp of my role here on earth. I realize that I'm one human being out of many, but yet I was given a life all its own. It's both a spiritual and humbling experience. Other things much more important than my trivial problems are taking place in the world. When the leaves fall, I need to realize that life is bigger and much more lasting than the autumn. Spring will come again...or did it ever leave?