JOHN MOLE

The Skaters

'This tiny blue planet is home to something special - ourselves.’
Jeanette Winterson

The skaters at the Rockefeller Center
As they do each year
Have set iron to ice
In extended family chains
Or intimate links of coupledom,

And the patterns they make
Are the frequencies
Of a New York Christmas
Going out on the air
With this global message,

That love is tenacious,
That every warm breath
Which floats on the ether
Through clouded neon
Comes wreathed in its glow,

That because of their loss
They are ghosts already,
Though a hand in a glove
Or an arm round a waist
Will be what they remember,

And to vanish unloved
From this tiny blue planet,
This world of our making,
Its glory and error,
Is the worst that can happen.

So the skaters crowd in
To the Rockefeller Center,
The dead and the living
With willed affirmation,
A hesitant grace

As the ice-rink shines
In its diamond brightness
Unafraid of the cold night's
Towering shadows
And beyond the endless sky.

Veronica Stoianovici

John Mole
 

Patinatorii

Aceasta planeta mica albastra este casa pentru ceva special –
noi insine .

Patinatorii care vin la Rockefeller Center
Asa cum fac in fiecare an
Au pus fier in loc de gheata
In siruri lungi de familii
Sau legaturi intime de cupluri

Si exemplele lor
Sunt repetitiile
Unui craciun la New York
Iesind afara la aer
Cu acest mesaj global

Dragostea aceasta este statornica,
Incat fiecare respiratie calda
Care pluteste in eter
Prin neonul intunecat
Apare invaluit in stralucirea sa,

Asta datorita pierderii lor
Sunt deja stafii,
Desi o manus ape mana,
Sau un brat in jurul taliei
E tot ce-si vor aminti,

Sa dispari neiubit
De pe planeta asta mica si albastra
Aceasta lume a creatiei noastre.
Cu gloria eroarea ei,
Este tot ce se poate intampla mai rau .

Astfel patinatorii dau buzna inauntru
La Centrul Rockefeller
Morti si vii
Plini de vointa
Si gratie sovaielnica

Stralucirea de diamant
A patinuarului
Fara teama de umbrele falnice
Ale noptii reci
Si dincolo de cerul nesfarsit