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.

Alina Rosu

Anne Stewart
 

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Ai invatat sa citesti, cu mult inainte de a baga de seama,
Acele semne ce spuneau ca ar trebui sa taci si sa asculti -
pentru oftat, un tt; un avertisment sa eviti privirea sykeseana
care ca esti vinovat, tradator si neiertat nu te lasa sa uiti.

Ea era precauta, mereu incercand sa fie corecta,
judecandu-ti succesele cu o urma de suspiciune;
buna purtare care sa necesite norocul fiind rara
si tu atat de dornic - atat de arogant si ingaduitor cu tine.

Ai ajuns sa stii cum gulerul sub paru-i ar fosni
sa stii ca buzele-i tuguiate nu au intentia sa te sarute.
Cum frica de a pierde incearca sa impiedice fiece pas ai indrazni
sa faci pe podul de franghie si lemn a ceea ce lipseste.