Ursula LeGuin spoke at the Rio tonight. Theme was: always coming home… and be patient enough to become rock or leaf. I walked to the Rio Theater then walked back and got soaked by a splendid drizzle. Any fine rain is home. Hence this poem of Armand Robin who spent much time listening to foreign radios in the many languages he knew and writing (righting) what he called Listening Reports:

Sans parole, je suis toute parole; sans langue, je suis chaque langue. D’incessants déferlements de rumeurs tantôt m’humectent et me font onde, tantôt m’affleurent comme un destin de calme promenade et me font sable, tantôt me choquent et me font roc. Je m’allonge en très immense et très docile plage où de vastes êtres collectifs, nerveux et tumultueux, abordent en gémissant élémentairement. (p. 14 of the edition by F. Morvan, ed. Le temps qu’il fait, 1979)

Translation:

Speechless, I am every speech. Tongueless, I am every tongue. Ceaseless crashing rumors now moisten me and make me water and wave, or come flush like a quiet afternoon walk and make me sand, or yet are bolts and make me rock. I lay down, immense and very docile beach where vast collective beings, swift and thunderous, land with elemental groanings.