HILARY ELFICK

The bathrobe

 

I am the colour of skin. I can fold,
wrap, enfold and leave you dry.

You chose me. Ranks on racks,
rejecting slinky, slim and shining.
Hesitated. Stretched me out, wide,
hesitated. Came back and said
‘This is the one.’

You were so hasty then, so suddenly
not waiting for them to find
the slips of tissue, swinging me
inside translucent plastic,
thrown into the darkness of a shocking slam.

Again the haste, the cramming and
the cramping into brown paper and
the squeezing string, a scream of sellotape;
you brought it to your face to catch
between your dog teeth, tear it free

I remember that dark, the throwing,

jostling. I remember the ring of metal,
a trolley’s wheels, a lift bell, that they said
‘This must have been for Dorothy.
We’ll send it back.’

When you unwrapped me it was a different face I saw,
expressionless, unless there was a quiet dismay.

I have hung now in a dark cupboard
over twenty years of seeping dust,
not even a hanky in my pocket.
You used to take me out from time to time
and slip me on but I was far too wide for you.
The last time, I fitted you
like a lost glove.

You never tried me on again.
And you give me nothing to dry.
You never did.

Roxana-Monica Mîndrican

Hilary Elfick
 

Halatul de baie

Sunt de culoarea pielii. Ma pliez,
te acopar, te invelesc si te zvant.

M-ai ales pe mine. Cautand prin rafturi,
ai refuzat ce era subtire, mic, stralucitor.
Ai ezitat. M-ai intins la maxim,
ai ezitat. Te-ai intors si ai spus
« Asta e. »

Erai asa grabit, atunci si-asa din pripa
n-ai asteptat sa imi gaseasca
defectele din tesatura*, am fost balansat
intr-un plastic transparent,
aruncat in intunericul unui impact socant.

Din nou grabit, m-ai inghesuit,
intr-un ambalaj maro strans de o sfoara,
scartaitul unui scotch, pe care l-ai
apropiat de chipul tau sa il sfasii
intre dintii tai ascutiti*.

Imi amintesc intunericul si izbitura

impactul. Imi amintesc un clinchet metalic,
rotile unui carucior, o sonerie de lift, cuvintele lor
« probabil era pentru Dorothy.
O sa-l trimitem inapoi. »

Cand m-ai despcahetat am vazut un chip diferit,
inexpresiv, sau poate doar o teama ascunsa.

De peste douazeci de ani praful ma acopera
intr-un dulap intunecos,
si nu am nici macar o batista in buzunar.
Ma mai scoteai din cand in cand
Si m-imbracai dar eram prea larg.
ultima data m-am potrivit
ca o manusa regasita.

Nu m-ai mai incercat de-atunci.
Nici un corp pe care sa-l usuc !
Niciodata.

*»defectele din tesatura » (the slips of tissue) could be a metaphoric way of depicting the « slips » of life that we so often fail to perceive due to our hasty nature. The hasty choice of the bathrobe, stands for the rash choices we make in our everyday existance, without reasoning too much.

*this stanza continues the idea of rush and also associates this rush with a sort of ferocity : « sfasii »(tear), « dintii tai ascutiti »(your dog teeth). I translated « your dog teeth » by « dintii tai ascutiti » because I associated the adjective « ascutiti »(sharp) with the noun « dog teeth » which appears in the source text.