கலை, நினைவு, பெண் – கவிதைகள்


தனிமையின் இசை: தூங்கும் புத்தகம் – அய்யனாரின் கவிதை படித்தவுடன் சமீபத்தில் வாசித்த இந்தக் கவிதையின் ஒத்திசைவு பகிர வைக்கிறது

மொழிபெயர்ப்புகள் வரவேற்கப்படுகின்றன

She Put on Her Lipstick in the Dark
By Stuart Dischell

I really did meet a blind girl in Paris once.
It was in the garden of a museum,
Where I saw her touching the statues.
She had brown hair and an aquamarine scarf.

It was in the garden of the museum.
I told her I was a thief disguised as a guard.
She had brown hair and an aquamarine scarf.
She told me she was a student from Grenoble.

I told her I was not a thief disguised as a guard.
We had coffee at the little commissary.
She said she had time till her train to Grenoble.
We talked about our supreme belief in art.

We had coffee at the little commissary,
Then sat on a bench near the foundry.
We talked about our supreme belief in art.
She leaned her head upon my chest.

We kissed on a bench near the foundry.
I closed my eyes when no one was watching.
She leaned her head upon my chest.
The museum was closing. It was time to part.

I really did meet a blind girl in Paris once.
I never saw her again and she never saw me.
In a garden she touched the statues.
She put on her lipstick in the dark.

I close my eyes when no one is watching.
She had brown hair and an aquamarine scarf.
The museum was closing. It was time to part.
I never saw her again and she never saw me.


Walking

by Stuart Dischell

Walking, late
at night or just around dawn,
I stop for a few minutes outside
a friend’s house and wonder
about him and his wife upstairs sleeping,
not trying the weather like me.

I know they keep usual hours;
in their house down the hill from me,
I see their lights go out most midnights
and could set my watch by them.
Their sleepiness must be a marriage
I’ve never experienced. I wish their lights
would go on to invite me inside.

I watch two squirrels cross their lawn,
frisk with the cat, and leave
as the newsboy approaches.
I wouldn’t want a child to think I’m strange.
(Is it strange to be awake
while most of the community turns
for another hour of sleep?)

I wish I walked in somebody’s dream.
In somebody’s dream I could sleep.

Copyright © Stuart Dischell

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