Piazza of Poets (2) My Discourse

Image credits: Jack and Oliver.

It didn’t matter that I didn’t know Arabic, for words are just one segment of experience.

How they said what they said and what bridge I constructed between my left and right brain determined my understanding:

·       Tone with which they sound and modulate their voice – its quality, pitch, accent

·       Harmonics as they recite their poetry – from fundamental to overtone frequency, music wafting in the theatre

·       Drama as they enact their words – posturing in space, gesturing with face and hands, connecting eyes with us

·       Spirit of who they are – emotions carrying, translations to English, meaning for each of them

It is ironic that I relegate words to just one segment of experience, for my poetry is so secured on the printed page and in my left brain. 

In truth, this Festival was, for me, a broadening – an opening of my very doors and windows to a richer, more complicated experience.

Much of the poetry was translated – on PowerPoint slides, translator from a headset, once with translator on stage alongside poet.

I tried to follow, as the poet recited and performed, but ultimately found the translation distracting and diminishing.

It was best, I felt, to soak myself as fully as I could into their very recitation and performance, to close my eyes, to listen with my soul. 

·       So, this, too, determines my understanding – soul of mine, soul of an audience enrapt and grateful

Piazza of Poets, Part 2. My Discourse © Ron Villejo

On attending a poetry soirée at the Madinat Jumeirah Theatre, during the Dubai International Poetry Festival (2009)