Notice
Don't fly kites when you have me
and with the slightest breath
the rain-rushing sound
from my waking dreams ...
Our meeting place is five parts of the world,
but there is also inner space, my love,
with magnetic fields where compasses go wild,
that is where the descent begins, step by step,
toward continental depths of light,
that is where we save our life,
listen to the blood storm
and become ancient
though not without nourishment.
You are here, I am here, both listening hard,
but the needle-like quivering that erupts
cannot be found without exposure.
If the world around us is wise,
it must forgive
that we hide in the open, that we are naked,
that we open our eyes and speak
so that our thoughts can unite to embrace
what is transformed
in continued succession
when we drown our hot bodies in cooling fire--remembered
by burning maples whose leaves
fall in flying glints, teetering, yellow, red,
in autumn's diamond night
when yours is mine
and the reverse,
within the soul's firewalls
no longer have power to hold space apart.
Pia Tafdrup, translated from the Danish by Thomas E. Kennedy.
Publicado em 9 de Fevereiro de 2007