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 corpului

1.Spinare

Trecandu-si mana pe spinarea ei, simti ardoarea,
De o salbaticie ca a lui, dar parca mai placuta.
Ii atinse fruntea. Era calma. Unde oare se-ntalneau
Aceste doua stari? Care era jumatatea drumului?
Era acolo unde se cuibaresc firile salbatice,
Undeva intre dorinta aprinsa si spaima.

2.Teasta

Intuiesti oasele fetei. Ti se pare ca plange.
Dar animalele plang? Parea ca pluteste pe deasupra
Unei imense intinderi de lacrimi. Somnul ei
Cuprindea timpul in causul palmelor,
Un timp de jale, dar de care te bucuri
In spatiile unde se zbat celulele, glandele.

3.Picior

Piciorul tau. Nu inseamna nimic. Ochii tai abia
De mai conteaza. Organele tale sunt nevazute,
Membrele anonime. Lichidele corpului tau nu fac
Nici cat o ceapa degerata, dar te pierzi infiorata
De bietele zdrente traitoare prin visele tale.
Aici domneste dorinta ce nu se supune niciunei legi.

4.Gat

Arhitectura delicata a gatului necesita atentie
Speciala. E nevoie de o anume dedicare stiintifica
Sa apreciezi fragilitatea rafinata in siraguri
De coliere, de lumini si de umbre. Simpla lui
Existenta ii da un aer cumva oriental,
Exotic, deloc intamplator.

5.Piele

Pielea e de ajuns ca sa trimit cateva rime suie.
De-ar putea fixa cineva si numai un voltmetru
Pe incheietura, n-ai avea ce citi pe el. De parca
S-ar intrerupe circuitul. Talpile picioarelor
Sunt placi de baza pentru pietrele peste care
Trebuie sa ne grabim, de parc-ar fi carbuni aprinsi.

6.Inima

Ce ne face oare sa ne aprindem? Lasa-ma sa-ti mangai tampla.
Sa fie inima ta, micul si minunatul meu izvor
De incantare? A mea e doar o mostra a mestesugului
Celui ce face inimi. Pieptul meu rasufla din greu
De asa povara, sangele mi se poticneste pe drum,
Genele-mi soptesc despre nenorocite, mostenite boli.

7.Imbatranire

Definitia imbatranirii: o rafala de vant pe suprafata
Unui lac. Ce creaturi isi duc oare viata
Acolo jos? Poate in adancuri, oarbele
Protozoare se strang sub o piatra,
Printre pestii prea viu colorati, cu forme macabre,
Inregistrand diverse stadii de soc.

8.Talie

Cea mai zvelta. In locul unde te frangi
In doua imi place cel mai mult sa mi te adun.
Aici simt durerea de a fi altcineva, inainte
Sa te reversi cand stiuta, cand tainuita
In acea incantare strunita, lipsita de griji,
Ce-mi inalta carnea pe mine, pastrandu-ma viu.

9.Pantec

Cupola lumii. Umflarea lui ciudata
Descrie o curba de o puritate lasciva
Indoita spre sine, mirosind nelamurit
A parfum, a pamant. Este momentul sublim
Al vremurilor bune, osanza celor bine hraniti,
Odinioara imbuibati cu vanitati.

10.Mana

Aproape o alta fiinta, separata de mine,
Lipita de incheietura ta, pe care o tin in timp ce
Creste, infloreste si se inchide peste tot ce cuprinde.
Am hoinarit in jos pe aleile ei, de unde
Toate cate exista pornesc incotro arata
Degetul acela, pentru a fi cantarite in palma.

Translated by Monica Manolachi