Hittade följande hönspoem i The New Yorker, May 24 2010.
Radbrytningen följer originalet.
A GLOSSARY OF CHICKENS
There should be word for the way
they look with just one eye, neck bent,
for beetle or worm or strewn grain.
"Gleaning," maybe, between "gizzard"
and "grit". And for the way they run
toward someone they trust, their skirts
hiked, their plump bodies wobbling:
"bobbling," let's call it, inserted
after "blowout" and before "bloom."
There should be terms, too, for things
they do not do--like urinate or chew--
but perhaps there already are.
I want a word for the way they drink,
head thrown back, throat wriggling,
like an old woman swallowing
a pill; a word beginning with "S,"
coming after "sex feather" and before "shank."
And one for the sweetness of hens
but not roosters. We think
that by naming we can understand,
as if the tongue were more than a muscle.
Poeten heter Gary Whitehead.
Jag orkar inte översätta, just nu i alla fall, men Glossary i rubriken betyder ordlista eller ordbok, och dikten handlar alltså om hönsord poeten saknar, ibland med förslag på ord, och var de hamnar i alfabetisk ordning i en ordlista. Dikten slutar med ett reflektion att vi tror att vi förstår när vi kan benämna saker.
Det bästa är de gulliga beskrivningar av hur höns beter sig.
