George Szirtes - Body Songs

1.Back

Slipping his hand down her back he felt her heat,
As creaturely as his own but far better. Her head
Was cool to the touch. Where did they meet,
These two conditions? What was mid-point here?
It was where the nature of creatureliness resided,
Half way between acute desire and fear.

2.Skull

You feel the bones of the face. It is like weeping.
Do animals weep? She seemed to be buoyed
On an enormous reservoir of tears. Her sleeping
Contained time in a cupping of hands,
A time that was to be lamented but enjoyed
In environments of working cells and glands.

3.Leg

Your leg, it seems nothing. Your eyes count
For little. Your organs are obscure, your limbs
Anonymous. Your bodily fluids don’t amount
To a hill of beans, but you are lost in awe
Of the poor rags that live in your dreams
Where desire is king and obeys no law.

4.Neck

The delicate architecture of the neck demands
Study. One needs a certain scholarly devotion
To appreciate its fragility refined into bands
Of necklace, light, and shadow. The very notion
Of its existence has a faintly oriental
Exotic flavour that is not merely accidental.

5.Skin

Skin is enough to send a rhyme-scheme skew-whiff.
Could one but fix a voltmeter to the small bones
Of the wrist it would read off the scale. It is as if
There were convulsions in the circuit. The soles
Of the feet are mother-boards for the stones
We must rush across as if they were hot coals.

6.Heart

What is it burns us up? Let me feel your temple.
Is it your heart, my small and wonderful source
Of delight? My own organ is a poor example
Of the organ maker’s art. My chest wheezes
With its burden, my blood stutters along its course,
My genes whisper lamentable inherited diseases.

7.Aging

The dynamics of aging: a gust of wind
On the surface of the pond. What creatures
Live down there? Deep down perhaps, blind
Animalculae are gathering beneath a rock
Among flamboyant fish with macabre features
Registering various states of shock.

8.Waist

Slenderest. The point at which you break
Into two is where I most like to hold
You together. It is there I feel the ache
Of your otherness, before you expand
Above and below into that blithe controlled
Delight that makes my own flesh stretch and stand.

9.Belly

The dome of the world. Its peculiar swelling
Presents a purely lascivious curve
At tension with itself, smelling
Vaguely of perfume and earth. It is
The last of the good times, the reserve
Of the well fed once gorged on vanities.

10.Hand

Almost another independent being
Stuck to your wrist. I hold it as it grows
Flowers and closes on whatever it’s carrying.
I have wandered down its alleyways
From which everything else follows
That finger points to and palm weighs.

George Szirtes - Cantecele trupului

1.Spate

Mana lui alunecandu-i ei pe spate, si ii simti caldura.
Fiinta ca si el, doar una mai frumoasa. Capul ei
E rece la atingere. Unde s-au contopit,
Aceste doua stari de fapt? Care, unde e miezul?
Acolo trebuie cautat centrul fiintei,
Unde dorinta acuta intalneste teama.

2.Craniu

Ii simti oasele fetei. E ca atunci cand plangi.
Oare si animalele fac asta? Parca un rezervor de lacrimi
I-ar fi colacul de salvare, gigantic. Somnul ei
Strange caus in palme timpul,
Timp regretat, insa trait intens
In universuri de celule vii si glande.

3.Picior

Piciorul tau, parca nimic. Ochii -
Minora importanta. Organe obscure,
Membre de-anonimat. Fluide - mai nimic.
Si totusi, ravasit, te infiori
De bietele nimicuri care-ti traiesc in vise
Unde dorinta e stapana, sclava niciunei legi.

4.Gat

Arhitectura delicata a gatului reclama
Studiu atent. E nevoie de o anume dedicare erudita
Sa-i poti aprecia fragilitatea distilata in siraguri
De lantisoare, de lumini si umbre. Numai ideea
Existentei sale are ceva dintr-o usor orientala
Si exotica aroma ce nu e strict accidentala.

5.Piele

Pielea e de ajuns ca orice sistem de rima sa dea gres.
Dac-am putea fixa pe-oscioarele incheieturii
Mainii un voltmetru, ar lua-o razna. E ca si cum
Ar exista convulsii-n circuit. Talpile noastre
Joaca rolul placii de baza pentru pietrele
Peste care gonim nebuni de parca-ar fi carbuni incinsi.

6.Inima

Ce arde-n noi asa? Sa iti simt fruntea.
Inima ta sa fie, micul si minunatul meu
Izvor de incantare? A mea e doar un prost exemplu
Al artei creatorului de inimi. Pieptul imi suiera
Sub apasarea ei, sangele meu se balbaie pe langa ea,
Genele poarta povara mostenitelor dureri.

7.Imbatranire

Dinamica imbatranirii: un vant usor
Pe suprafata unui lac. Ce creaturi
Traiesc acolo jos? In adancime poate,
Protozoare oarbe se aduna pe sub stanci -
In jur pesti sumbri si multicolori -
Trecand prin varii stari de soc.

8.Talie

Ingusta. Punctul in care te rupi in doua
E unde imi place cel mai mult
Sa te reintregesc. Acolo simt durerea
Alteritatii tale, chiar inainte sa te extinzi
In sus si-n jos, formand acea-ncantare
Fericita, controlata, ce-mi face trupul sa tresare infiorat.

9.Pantec

Domul lumii. Ridicatura sa specifica
Formeaza o curbura pur lasciva
In tensiune cu ea insasi, mirosind
Vag a parfum si a pamant. Aceasta este
Ultima din vremurile bune, rezerva celor
Bine hraniti ce se-mbuibau candva cu vanitati.

10.Mana

Aproape o fiinta independenta intepenita
De incheietura ta. O tin, pe cand ea creste flori
Si se inchide in jurul a ce cara.
I-am colindat aleile
Din care apoi decurge tot
Ce a fost indicat de deget, cantarit de palma.

Translated by Andreea Diaconu