Anyway,
....stars in a net, a lacing of silver silk and a meander of blue and red, the dark pools of bruises that stay in the skin for years...
That is all I got translated this morning. Bleh! Bleh!
Yes, it really does fall that well in English, I'm not doing anything to it. I think she might have been one of those foreign speakers who speak the minutiae of a language better than the natives, not that it matters as this was from the Yiddish. Violeta's work has that, distinctly: a sense of... fall. That makes no sense, but my brain is already bifurcating into Tell! Show! Do! mode for the class...
And it's a bleeding fifty-line poem, what do you want, completion in an hour?
Translation, as they say in the vernacular, sometimes tends to screw the kangaroo.