ANNE STEWART

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You learned to read, long before you were aware,
those signs that said you should shut down and listen –
only for a sigh, a tut; a warning to avoid the Sykesean glare
that held you guilty, traitorous and unforgiven.

She was deliberate, trying always to be fair,
judging your successes with a measure of suspicion;
good behaviour warranting good fortune being rare
with you so wilful – so arrogant and self-permitting.

You came to recognise the rustle of a collar under hair;
to know that pursed lips can have no thought of kissing.
How fear of losing tries to trip each step you dare
along the rope and timber bridge of what is missing.

Nicoleta Stroie

Anne Stewart
 

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Ai invatat sa citesti cu mult inainte de a o stii,
acele semne care iti spuneau ca ar trebuie sa taci si sa asculti –
numai pentru un oftat, un ei poftim!; o avertizare sa eviti privirea Sykesiana
care te-a facut vinovat, tradator si de neiertat.

Ea era precauta, incercand mereu sa fie corecta,
judecandu-ti succesele cu o oarecare suspiciune;
buna purtare garantand norocul rar
cu tine atat de doritor – atat de arogant si ingaduitor.

Ai ajuns sa recunosti zgomotul parului pe guler;
sa stii ca o gura bosumflata nu te va saruta.
Cum teama de a rata incearca sa iti puna piedica la fiecare pas
de-a lungul franghiei si al podetului a ceea ce lipseste.