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 - Cantece trupesti

1.Spate

Lunecandu-si mana de-a lungul spatelui ei i-a simtit fierbinteala
La fel de salbatica precum a lui, dar mult mai rafinata. Tampla ei
Era racoroasa la atingere. Unde se intalneau,
Aceste doua temperaturi? Care era ecuatorul aici?
Era locul unde salasluia natura salbaticiunii,
La jumatatea distantei intre dorinta patrunzatoare si teama.

2.Craniu

Simti oasele chipului. Este precum un planset.
Animalele plang? Parea plutinda
Pe un lac imens de lacrimi. Somnul ei
Cuprindea timpul intr-o impreunare de palme,
O vreme ce avea sa fie regretata dar savurata
In medii de celule si glande palpitante.

3.Picior

Piciorul tau, nu pare a insemna nimic. Ochii tai au semnificatii
Minore. Organele-ti sunt obscure, membrele
Anonime. Umorile tale nu fac
Doua parale, dar esti pierduta in veneratia
Sarmanelor zdrente ce iti salasluiesc in vise
Acolo unde dorinta-i imparat si n-asculta de vreo lege.

4.Gat

Arhitectura delicata a gatului se cere
Studiata. E nevoie de un anume devotament savant
Pentru a-i aprecia fragilitatea rafinata in fasii
De colier, lumina si umbra. Insasi notiunea
Existentei sale are un iz exotic,
Usor oriental ce nu este pur intamplator.

5.Piele

Pielea este suficienta ca sa o ia pe aratura schema rimelor.
De s-ar putea fixa un voltmetru pe oscioarele
Incheieturii, valorile-ar iesi din schema. Este ca si cum
Erau convulsii pe circuit. Talpile
Sunt placi de baza pentru lespezile
Peste care trebuie sa alergam de parc-ar fi carbuni incinsi.

6.Inima

Ce lucru ne-arde scrum? Lasa-ma sa-ti simt tampla.
Inima ta sa fie, mica si minunata mea sursa
De incantare? Propriul meu organ este o mostra neconvingatoare
A indemanarii creatorului de organe. Pieptul meu se sufoca
Sub povara-si, sangele mi se-mpiedica pe canale,
Genele mele isi soptesc patetice boli mostenite.

7.Imbatranire

Dinamica imbatranirii: o pala de vant
Pe suprafata iazului. Ce creaturi
Isi duc veacul acolo jos? Poate ca jos, in adanc vietati
Microscopice oarbe se aduna sub un pietroi
In mijlocul pestilor inzorzonati cu trasaturi macabre
Inregistrand diverse stari de soc

8.Talie

Cea mai supla. Punctul in care te desparti
In doua este cel unde imi place mai tare sa te tin
La un loc. Acolo simt fiorul
Strainatatii tale, inainte sa te dilati
Deasupra si dedesubt in acea desfatare controlata
De bucurie ce face ca propria-mi carne sa se intinda si sa se ridice.

9.Pantec

Cupola lumii. Proeminenta sa stranie
Infatiseaza o curba eminamente lasciva
In contraforta cu sine, inmiresmata
Vag a parfum si tarana. Este
Cea din urma a vremurilor bune, provizia
Celor bine-hraniti, imbuibati candva cu desertaciuni.

10.Mana

Aproape o alta fiinta intependenta
Prinsa de ingheietura ta. O tin pe masura ce-i cresc
Flori si se inchide in jurul a ce-o fi transportand.
Am ratacit de-a lungul aleilor sale
De unde urmeaza toate celelalte
Catre care degetul arata, si palma cantareste.

Translated by Eliza Ghitulescu