THE LIZARD CATCHERS, poesia di PETER THABIT JONES, Swansea, UK. MIDNIGHT DANCE, quadro di MONA K.V., Malaysia

Midnight_dance_monartist 
(copyright of the artist)

LINK:  http://www.artbreak.com/monartist

THE LIZARD CATCHERS
(for Molly)
by Peter Thabit Jones

Tattooed on the rocks in the midday sun,
They were hieroglyphs we understood.

Behind the boy-tall grass, we slyly sat
As patient as pyramid statue-cats.

The moments burned; the flying rooks were vultures;
The sky was blue, some brittle clouds in heaven.

Like ‘palm crocodiles’, like playtime dinosaurs,
They basked in a freedom known aeons ago.

As dry as Lazarus just from the tomb,
Legged snakes, rest lodged in them as sweet as dust.

As still as lizards photographed, like taut thoughts,
The smoke of autumn’s drug dreamed through their world.

One by one, we hurried to seize our catch;
The lizards darted, swimming through the grass,

Discarding their tails tugged off by clumsy grasps.
Then we claimed the rocks and blessed them with our laughs.

From The Lizard Catchers (Cross-Cultural Communications, 2006)

I CACCIATORI DI LUCERTOLE

 ( a Molly)

di Peter Thabit Jones

Come tatuate sulle rocce nel sole di mezzogiorno

Erano geroglifici che riuscivamo a capire

Dietro l’erba alta come i ragazzi, noi eravamo seduti furtivi

Pazienti come le statue dei gatti delle piramidi.

I momenti bruciavano; i corvi volteggianti erano come avvoltoi;

il cielo era blu, in alto  alcune fragili nuvole.

Come “coccodrilli delle palme”, come  dinosauri del tempo dei giochi,

Si scaldavano al sole, in una libertà conosciuta un miliardo di anni fa.

Rinsecchite come Lazzaro uscito dalla tomba,

Serpenti con le gambe, il riposo dimorava in loro dolce come la polvere

Immobili come lucertole fotografate, come pensieri concisi,

Il fumo del narcotico autunnale si stemperava attraverso il loro mondo.

Uno per volta, ci affrettavamo per afferrare le nostre prede;

Le lucertole guizzavano, nuotando nell’erba.

Rinunciando alle loro code strappate da prese maldestre.

Poi noi riconquistavamo le rocce e le benedivamo con le nostre risate.

Translated by LIDIA CHIARELLI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s