An evocative poem by Associate Professor of English 詹姆斯Najarian has won the sixth annual Frost Farm Prize for metrical poetry. More than 600 entries were submitted to the competition for the prestigious award, 这是送给纳加里安的黑暗时代,” a poem that likens a mother's loss of memory to the period after the Roman departure from Britain.
"I am very happy to have won this prize and to be able to visit the Frost Farm,纳贾里安说, who was invited to be a featured reader at the Hyla Brook Reading Series at the Robert Frost Farm in Derry, N.H., in June, kicking off the second annual 霜冻农场诗歌 Conference.
“I have to give credit to my colleague [Professor] Robin Fleming of the History department, 的辉煌, readable Britain After Rome spurred me to complete the poem that I had already been working on,纳贾里安补充道.
The award—which includes publication in 埃文斯维尔评论 and a monetary prize—was judged by David J. 罗斯曼, director of Western State Colorado University’s graduate program in creative writing, 谁赞扬了纳加里安的工作.
“‘黑暗时代’ participates in what has become, 在过去的几十年中, 挽歌的一个可识别的子类型, even if it is an elegy of death-in-life: the Alzheimer’s poem. This poem differs from all others on this theme I have ever read, in its successful use of an extended metaphor, in which the poet implicitly compares the mother’s loss of memory to the aftermath of the Roman departure from Britain,罗斯曼说.
他称这项工作“引人注目”, 熟练的, not only technically adroit but also thematically fierce and focused, and emotionally profound: an intense yet also measured depiction of destruction and grief. 这首诗的六节无韵诗, 每条九行长, alternate starkly between painfully clear-eyed description of the mother’s decline, and comparably evocative reimagining of the advent of ‘the dark ages.’ The personal and the historical merge in ways that illuminate both.”
罗斯曼 added: “With more than 600 entries, this year’s submissions to the Frost Farm Prize presented a tremendous range of subjects, 主题, 音调, 风格与技巧. 和他们呆了好几个小时之后, my overwhelming impression is that hundreds upon hundreds of poets continue to care about craft.”
Najarian, who teaches poetry and prose at BC, is widely published. He directs the doctoral program in English and edits the 宗教与艺术 杂志. A specialist in Romantic and Victorian poetry and nonfiction prose, his research interests include gender and sexuality in literature, 诗歌的影响, religion in literature and book production.
In 2015, 文学学者协会, Critics and Writers honored Najarian with its Stephen J. Meringoff Writing Award in Poetry for his works: “Kleptomania,”“从亚美尼亚区来,和《太阳城网赌平台》.”
霜冻农场诗歌's mission is to support the writing and reading of poetry, especially metrical poetry. The Hyla Brook Poets started in 2008 as a monthly poetry workshop. 第二年, its reading series launched with presentations by both emerging poets and luminaries. The 霜冻农场诗歌 Prize for metrical poetry was introduced in 2010; its poetry conference began in 2015.
——罗珊娜·佩莱格里尼|新闻 & 公共事务
《太阳城网赌平台》
I
For years, my mother shuttled from her garden
to the stove, from barn to sewing room to sons,
her life like an unopened work of history.
然后是沉默. 她累了吗？? 无聊?
She hovered in her kitchen the whole day.
Skillets and glassware tumbled from her hands,
她的脸像一块铅块. 她的花园缩小了
to towering, weedy greens and wiry vines.
来年我们没有耕种它.
II
罗马时代晚期的不列颠开始转变
even before the soldiers were withdrawn.
With the seas unguarded, little was brought in.
Ale and lard replaced Rome’s wine and oil.
The towns dispersed, as townsfolk headed to
乡村试大地. 起初,
城主们体面地拆掉了房子
废弃的浴场和寺庙. 别墅崩溃.
Those who stayed grew barley in the ruins.
3
She had trouble walking, or rather starting
walking -- her feet seemed bolted to the ground,
大脑没有安排它的省份.
She spoke a rote “no, thank you”; rarely “yes.”
Her kingdom dwindled to a bed and toilet--
a quilt she planned still hanging from the wall,
bright calicoes once basted to white flannel,
seed-packets, knitting, quiet as offerings --
她的生活现在在她周围考古.
IV
最后，罗马撤回了军队.
随着罗马而去的是各种技能. 粗锅
in native kilns, declined, then disappeared.
Foundries halted, and with them nails vanished.
The people foundered barefoot in the mud
as shoes could not be made-- or coffins either.
The dead were thrown directly in the ground.
淤泥堵塞了城市的下水道. 坎特伯雷
变成了牧场，约克变成了沼泽.
V
In daylight she may keen for hours, unaware.
All night she shrieks, but does not hear her sounds.
She grips a toy she’s had since she was small,
a drowsy chimpanzee whose eyelids close.
护士把她放在一张安全的矮床上；
half-buried in her sheets, she is a baby
在一条小船上迷路了. 她知道我的名字，
但哭泣，不知道为什么. 有时我可以
make out a single word: “no, no, no, no.”
VI
The towns and villages have emptied out.
我们聚集在垃圾堆里的部落里，
在山顶或破败的堡垒上，
dwelling among the swine we kill each fall,
gorging because we cannot let them waste.
Our women scrounge for bits of bead and bronze.
They roast our gritty roots right in the fire,
or cook in cauldrons dug from ancient graves,
sepulchri: pots that once held human ashes.