----with thanks to Alexandra Grigorianu for checking my bad Romanian
Sometimes, a little lachyrmose
I hear the child of Piata Traian
the metallic wails of trams turning
faces gazing out the windows into me
Sometimes, as joyously as a summer afternoon
I hear the crickets singing joyously
the Bega flowing almost imperceptibly somewhere
as the heat fills the dusty streets
and it is too hot to make love too violently
Sometimes, lethargically, I am in the sufragerie
the listless heat outside like a distempered dog
the snoopy old ladies of Zona Dorobantilor
slying in wait for stirring, passings, comings
& I must provoke them daily!
Sometimes, the pretty young girl in the magasin
with her bronzed arms and gold-flecked teeth
flirts with me as I stammer in her native tongue,
Dati-mi va rog o sticla de Cola mare ?
& she would love the vermillion hues of reddening cheeks
as I slink back to the apartment
(Inca mai aud acele voci soptind incet)
little voices, little voices....
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment