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.Spatele

Trecandu-si mana pe spatele ei ii simtea caldura trupului,
De animal, la fel ca si a lui, dar infinit mai buna. Capul ei
Era linistit la atingere. Unde s-au reunit,
Aceste doua stari? Care a fost punctul de intalnire?
A fost locul de origine al animalitatii,
La jumatatea drumului dintre dorinta si frica cea mai intensa.

2.Craniul

Ii simti oasele fetei. Ca si cum ar plange.
Oare animalele plang? Parea ca se tine de geamandura
Intr-un imens ocean de lacrimi. Somnul ei
Era umplut cu o mana de timp,
Un timp care avea sa fie regretat, dar savurat
In incaperi cu celule lucratoare si glande.

3.Piciorul

Piciorul tau pare ca nu exista. Ochii conteaza
Mai putin. Organele tale sunt ascunse, membrele tale
anonime. Fluidele corpului tau nu fac
Cat un sac de boabe, dar te-ai ratacit in veneratia
Bietelor zdrente care salasluiesc in visele tale
Unde domneste dorinta, care nu respecta nicio lege.

4.Gatul

Delicata arhitectura a gatului trebuie
Cercetata. Este nevoie de un devotament de savant
Pentru a putea aprecia fragilitatea lui rafinata de siragurile
Colierelor, luminii si umbrei. Insasi existenta lui
Are o oarecare aroma exotica,
Orientala, care nu este deloc intamplatoare.

5.Pielea

Pielea este suficienta pentru a crea o rima suie.
Daca s-ar monta un voltmetru pe oasele mici
Ale incheieturii, s-ar putea citi gama. Ca si cum ar fi
Spasme intr-un circuit. Talpile
Picioarelor sunt placile de baza ale pietrelor
Peste care trebuie sa trecem in fuga, de parca ar fi carbuni incinsi.

6.Inima

Ce ne arde? Lasa-ma sa-si simt tampla.
Oare e inima, mica si minunata mea sursa de
Desfatare? Organul meu este un exemplu prost
Al mestesugului creatorului de organe. Pieptul imi horcaie
Sub propria-i greutate, fluxul sangelui se tot intrerupe,
Genele mele soptesc afectiuni mostenite in mod regretabil.

7.Imbatranirea

Dinamica imbatranirii: o rafala de vant
Pe suprafata lacului. Ce creaturi
Traiesc acolo? Poate ca acolo jos se aduna
Animale oarbe sub o piatra
Printre pestii viu colorati cu trasaturi macabre
Care inregistreaza diverse stari de soc.

8.Talia

Cea mai zvelta. Punctul in care te rupi
In doua e acela care este cel mai probabil
Sa te impiedice sa te destrami. Acolo simt durerea
Celuilalt eu al tau, inainte sa te prelungesti
In sus si in jos in acea desfatare controlata
Care face propria-mi piele sa se intinda si sa stea in picioare.

9.Ombilicul

Cupola lumii. Umflatura lui ciudata
Are o curba foarte lasciva
Tensionata si miroase
Usor a parfum si lut. E
Ultima clipa a vremurilor bune, rezerva
Fantanii bine ghiftuita cu capricii.

10.Mana

Aproape o alta fiinta independenta
Prinsa de incheietura ta. O tine in timp ce pe ea
Cresc flori si inchide in ea orice apuca.
M-am plimbat de-a lungul aleilor ei
De unde incep toate celelalte
Catre care sunt orientate degetele si pe care le cantareste palma.

Translated by Gabriela Burcea