03. 16. 2006. 09:15

She Leaves Me (Two Poems)

"What does a fetus think light is?
Waiting, it stirs, it makes gestures.
Gurgle of bowels. My heart throbbing.
It’s in a dream, soaked and weightless."

She leaves me

She cheats me, she leaves me.
Expels me from her, leaves me.
Lets me eat her, leaves me.
Cradles me, leaves me.
Fondles my feet, and towels my bottom,
combs my hair, then leaves me.
I drink her smell as she hugs me,
says “I’ll never leave you” and leaves me.
She fools me and smiles, whispers “don’t fear!”
I fear and I freeze and she leaves me.
Night-time she lies on the bed, by my side,
then she steals out and she leaves me.
Big, warm and lively, she makes me a nest,
kisses me, hums to me, leaves me.
Fills up my hands with sugar to eat,
after I’ve eaten she leaves me.
I weep and scream, I have her to cling to,
I have her to hit, then she leaves me.
Closing the door, she doesn’t look back.
I don’t exist when she leaves me.
Trembling I wait for her, just like a dog,
She comes, she caresses, she leaves me.
She’s vital. Living without her is death.
She lifts me, she warms me, she leaves me.
Her arms are a cage, but her lap is my home.
I wish her back, but she leaves me.
One lesson learnt: I am not one with her.
A stranger, a stranger, she leaves me.

There in the world, another awaits you.
Another one whom you can leave.
Closing the door, don’t even look back.
Waiting is easy, it’s leaving that’s hard.
Someone will cheat you, someone will orphan you,
there’ll always be someone awaiting you, fearing you,
always someone who won’t come back,
who’ll bear you, who’ll die, who’ll leave you.


Around three

Whimpers from those who are sleeping.
Dreams in the silence are churning.
Startled, I wake. What expecting?
In me, the baby is turning.

Other child sleeps, and it’s panting.
Maybe got fever? Moist forehead.
Bus turns the bend as the city
Gets itself ready for morning.

What does a fetus think light is?
Waiting, it stirs, it makes gestures.
Gurgle of bowels. My heart throbbing.
It’s in a dream, soaked and weightless.

How should I watch while they’re sleeping?
In me, the baby is turning.
Keep them protected, defend them.
Nest-warm my body, blood burning.

Silent I sit. What expecting?
Through inner darkness I’m looking.
What does a closed eye think light is?
In the night’s womb, I am soaking.


Translated by: David Hill

Tags: Anna Szabó T.