This poem is taken from PN Review 197, Volume 37 Number 3, January - February 2011.
Four Poems (translated by John R.G. Turner)
From Lovescapes
For Klymene
The wordless melodies,
The voiceless vocalise,
My dear it is your eyes
Painted by skies,
It is your voice – the strange
Visions that derange
My horizontals wrecked
My intellect –
It is your swansdown pallor
Exhaling perfume paler
Than your aroma’s quite
Astounding white,
It’s how you pierce me through
With what you are and do,
Cadenzas that incense
Dead innocents,
...
For Klymene
The wordless melodies,
The voiceless vocalise,
My dear it is your eyes
Painted by skies,
It is your voice – the strange
Visions that derange
My horizontals wrecked
My intellect –
It is your swansdown pallor
Exhaling perfume paler
Than your aroma’s quite
Astounding white,
It’s how you pierce me through
With what you are and do,
Cadenzas that incense
Dead innocents,
...
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