Merryn Williams

My Cousin

She came here-not to rest-to sweep the stairs and
empty chamber pots. The gilded chairs
still stand here, the enormous mirrors throw
my face back as they did hers, aeons ago.
Down these plush corridors she moved, her feet
not echoing - dusting, leaving all things neat.
Somewhere her midget room, a great way up
these stairs. Invisible beneath her cap
to Bournemouth's guests, but I now who she was; my flesh, my blood, thrown early from the nest.
A small skimped woman when she was alive,
all siblings lost, unmatched at forty-five.
No trace, not one. Still stands the Grand Hotel
but now she rests. Somewhere in Boumemouth still.

Laura Persoiu

Merryn Williams

Verisoara mea

Ea nu a venit aici sa se odihneasca – ci sa mature scarile
Si sa goleasca oale de noapte. Scaunele aurite
Inca mai sunt aici, oglinzile enorme imi arunca inapoi
Imaginea mea la fel cum faceau cu a ei, acum o eternitate.
Ea se plimba pe aceste coridoare de plus, picioarele ei
Nestarnind nici un ecou – stergand praful, lasand lucrurile in ordine.
Undeva in camera ei minuscula, sus, sus
Pe scari. Invizibila sub boneta ei
Pentru oaspetii din Bournemouth, dar eu stiam cine e;
Carnea mea, sangele meu, aruncat prea devreme din cuib.
O femeie mica, fragila cand traia,
Toti fratii pierduti, fara sa-si fi gasit pereche la patruzeci si cinci de ani.
Nici o urma, nici una. Grand Hotel inca mai sta in picioare
Dar ea se odihneste acum. Inca undeva in Bluemouth.