Your apparel wraps-up my frame today,
Apparel not, it’s you circumnavigate
My form as if through metamorphosis.
The textile you, stir my cells
Through pan-frame activities tactile
But alsa! The cells respond not to your entreaties
They treat you as ‘foreign body’,
And deservedly you suffer tissue-rejection.
Even my notes encased in your purse
Rebel and remind me how
Lavishly incalculative I was
With them – caused them
Part with me to comfort you.
I wear you only to tear
Dual floral memories dear
For those gnaw at my core
Adding to my years another score.
Textile relic of my siren
Hasten the wear and tear then
For to Ithaca must I return
Burrying all Calypsonian remnants
In the aquatic safe of the Lotos-land.
Then I dived into the Lethe
And could not recognize even
The pattern of my own face-
But I could easily count, there,
The uncountable lashes
Of your deep smoky eyes.
Then I traveled
To the islands of Lotos Eaters
And found myself forgetting, there,
The limbs of my own-
But I could easily pipe and play
All the reeds of your
Soft, lovely and melodious flute.
Now a portrait of
Perception I can easily exploit
That living without you is
Simply impossible to me
And to my exploited self.
Weiße Seerosen / White Water Lilies / Lotos blancos
Weiße Seerosen
Sie tanzen einen Reigen
Auf dunklem Wasser
White water lilies
They perform a round dance
Over dark water
Los lotos blancos
Ellos bailan una rueda
Sobre el agua oscura
Lotusblüte / Lotos Blossom / Flor de loto
Einsam erstrahlend
Über dunkelstem Wasser
die Lotusblüte
Solitary shine
Atop the darkest water
The lotus blossom
Solitaria brilla
Encima del agua más oscura
La flor de loto
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