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.

Catalina Proca

Anne Stewart
 

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Ai invatat sa citesti cu mult inainte de a fi constient de asta,
Acele semnale care spuneau ca ar trebui sa taci si sa asculti –
Cat un oftat, un tt!, un avertisment de a evita privirea cruntă, ucigatoare
Care te mentinea vinovat, tradator si de neiertat.

Ea era precauta, intotdeauna incercand sa fie corecta;
Judecandu-ti succesul cu o umbra de suspiciune;
Buna cuviinta ce garanteaza norocul fiind rara
Cu tine atat de doritor, atat de arogant si autoritar

Ai ajuns sa recunosti fosnetul unui guler sub par;
Sa stii ca acele buze ridate nu pot sa se gândească la sarutat.
Cum frica esecului incearca sa puna piedica fiecarui pas pe care indraznesti
Sa-l faci de-a lungul franghiei sau a podului de lemn .intins peste prapastie.