ANNE STEWART

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You learned to read, long before you were aware,
those signs that said you should shut down and listen –
only for a sigh, a tut; a warning to avoid the Sykesean glare
that held you guilty, traitorous and unforgiven.

She was deliberate, trying always to be fair,
judging your successes with a measure of suspicion;
good behaviour warranting good fortune being rare
with you so wilful – so arrogant and self-permitting.

You came to recognise the rustle of a collar under hair;
to know that pursed lips can have no thought of kissing.
How fear of losing tries to trip each step you dare
along the rope and timber bridge of what is missing.

Elena Alina Cretu Cerchez

Anne Stewart
 

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Ai invatat sa citesti cu mult inainte sa fii constient,
acele semne care spuneau ca ar trebui sa taci si sa asculti –
doar sa oftezi, sa tatai; te avertizau sa eviti privirea crunta
care te dadea drept vinovat, tradator si niciodata de iertat.

Gandea tot ce facea, incercand mereu sa fie dreapta
Judecandu-ti succesurile cu o anumita indoiala;
Purtarea buna nu-ti aduce intotdeauna noroc
Tu, incapatanatule – asa de arogant si libertin.

Ai ajuns sa recunosti fosnetul gulerului sub par,
Sa-ti dai seama ca o gura pecetluita n-asteapta sarut.
Sa vezi cum teama de a esua incearca sa-ti impiedice posibilii pasi
Facuti pe calea cunosterii ca pe o muchie de cutit.