A’Yara Stein’s most recent poem here was The Gloved Hand (May 2010). How’s this for a lyrical summer read?
It’s All in the Translation
By A’Yara Stein
By A’Yara Stein
Ich liebe dich, mein teufel
Slick and luminous and vast, the Mississippi spreads impartial
as sunlight, eyes dancing up and down her back — the envy of her neighbors.
Here I am on the other side; what can we do with all that water?
I must tell you. I’ve got to tell you. I am afraid to cross this river.
Skin the glossy brown of caramel apples, you smell like ancient rosemary,
sweat and lemon; the stars so near your eyes they have volume.
Entirely self-invented, entirely self-made, angry evening wind whips the valley,
slings strands of hair into my eyes, gives nothing. I know about grief.
Just there, at the edge, is my first step. We haven’t touched yet; you haven’t sucked
the ends of my hair, little paint brushes to Klimt-coat pebbly nipples.
Just yet, I haven’t licked your palms, pressed them open like pages in a book,
skin thin as a hummingbird, veins an intricate Braille for my salt-thirsty tongue.
Together now, we kiss across centuries, our traveler’s energy comforts, defines.
Here we find no distance too great under the deep blue curve of sky.
A’Yara, stunningly lyrical and evocative. Your words awake and engage all of the senses. Thank you for shaing such glorious words.
Sharon
Lovely imagery.