Poetry Thursday: Dithyramb of a Happy Woman

I just loved the exuberant joy expressed in this poem--it fairly dances on the page! And who doesn't want to be as "impossible as reality?" This reminded me of a Whitman-esque barbaric yawp, in a world where we shush our shouts way too often. So be loud, be thrilled to the fingertips, be the kind of fools commonly referred to as "holy."

I had to look up "dithyramb" and discovered one of its meaning is "A wildly enthusiastic speech or piece of writing."
And isn't that what we're all doing here? I believe I've discovered our "patron poem!"

Ahem, I'll put my pom poms down now.

Happy Poetry Thursday!

Dithyramb of a Happy Woman
Anna Swir
(translated by Czeslaw Milosz)

Song of excess,
strength, mighty tenderness,
pliant ecstasy.
Magnificence
lovingly dancing.

I quiver as a body in rapture,
I quiver as a wing,
I am an explosion,
I overstep myself,
I am a fountain,
I have its resilience.
Excess,
a thousand excesses,
strength,
song of gushing strength.

There are gifts in me,
flowerings of abundance,
curls of light are sobbing,
a flame is foaming, its lofty ripeness
is ripening.
Oceans of glare,
rosy as the palate
of a big mouth in ecstacy.

I am astonished
up to my nostrils, I snort,
a snorting universe of astonishment
inundates me.
I am gulping excess, I am choking with fullness,
I am impossible as reality.