ANNE STEWART

Young Girl Waking


He was the sort of man she might
have loved she thought after another night
conveyored into bed

with the careless threat
of a man-less night by a dreamless man
seeking refuge in that dead place of her own;

that dark not used to choice or given to refusing
but beginning to wonder if such a losing
would be so bad a thing.

Cold enough for out on a limb
You are the kind of man she told him,
and he listened, and was never seen again.

Svetlana Iuschevici

Anne Stewart
 

Tanara trezindu-se

El era genul de barbat pe care ar fi putut
sa-l iubească isi zise ea după inca o noapte
rulată in pat

cu ameninţarea lipsita de griji
a unei nopti fara de barbati a unui barbat fara de vise
care sa-si caute adăpost in acel loc mort, al ei ;

acel intuneric in care nu e obişnuita sa aleaga sau sa isi ofere refuzul
incepuse sa se întrebe daca aşa o pierdere
ar fi un lucru chiar atât de rău.

Destul de frig ca sa fie periculos
Eşti genul de barbat ii spuse ea
iar el a ascultat si de atunci nu a mai fost vazut.