Mandy Edwards

TALKING IT OVER

After that ballet, immense calm.
Summer's at our backs; we stand still briefly,
masks of amber all left
in the white of the sky hanging.

Talking in certain voices of the faces
we've wanted, and had - for you
it was beech trees, pink nails.
I was on the phone all day.

The large room places us.
Words, we're affection in the air


 

Paul Eluard

THE LOVERS (L'AMOUREUSE)
( translated from the French by D L Upton)

Her presence weighs upon my eyes
and her hair is mingled with mine.
She has the outline of my hands,
she has the colour of my eyes,
she is consumed by my shadow
like a stone against the sky.

She always keeps her eyes closed,
distracting me from sleep.
Her dreams in broad daylight
burn up all the fuel of the suns;
make me laugh, cry, laugh
and talk having nothing to say.

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