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.

Bianca Angelescu

John Mole
 

Patinatorii

Aceasta mica planeta albastra gazduieste ceva special –
pe noi. Jeanette Winterson.

Patinatorii de la Centrul Rockefeller
Si-au dat drumul pe gheata
Ca in fiecare an,
In lanturi formate din familii
Sau legaturi formate din cupluri de indragostiti,
Si modelele ce le formeaza
Sunt frecventele
Unui Craciun Newyorkez
Iesind afara
Cu acest mesaj global,
Cum ca dragostea este perseverenta,
Ca fiecare rasuflare calda
Care pluteste in eter
Prin atmosfera innorata
Vine incununata in propria stralucire,
Din cauza pierderii lor
Ei au devenit stafii
Desi o mana in manusa
Sau un brat in jurul unei talii
E tot ce-si vor aminti
Si sa dispara neiubiti
De pe aceasta mica planeta albastra,
Aceasta lume facuta de noi,
Gloria si esecul ei,
Este ceea ce se poate intampla mai rau.
Asa ca patinatorii se aduna
la Centrul Rockefeller,
mortii si vii
cu o vointa puternica,
cu gratie sovaitoare
pe cand patinoarul straluceste
in lumina de diamante
fara teama de umbrele turn
ale noptilor reci
si dincolo de cerul nesfarsit.