Bride
The sea is known to those who sail it
while those who long for it and weep distort
to hate their own salt, small and incapable
of round horizons. Song of the sea away from sea
engulfs the mouth it drowns in. Who can be happy without cause
to sing? Even in dreams the waters part, open up all the way
one way, diaspora, dust to dust. Some of us give our lives
to study
the rate at which an animal can unlearn fear
and fall asleep to dream we dream. Tonight I will
to lie down in my native, palpitating
port, to fill
the chill dome of the mind with murmuring, subdued
old florid story of the blood, repeated wet
vow and lament.
Η Olga Broumas, καθηγήτρια στο Brandeis University, διάβασε ποιήματά της στο Θέατρο Ελληνοαμερικανικής Ένωσης.
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