A perennial translation
The woman time forgot
Is beautiful today
Moulded in clay, frozen
She will tear you apart
With a look, or, maybe, a knife.
This lake by which
She lives is frozen.
Dare we skate
On such thin ice?
And water haunts the air
Birds migrate and block the sun
And, still, we have not fled
All that we once remembered
Cities, technologies, many things.
We remain beautiful but hopeless
This is no time for singing.
The sterility of winter predominates
But we are never bored
With pure survival.
Intermittently, the earth shakes
Another nuclear explosion
In the war zone – tipping the axis
Into a space undelivered, by this or any planet.
We cannot deny our eyes and ears.
Horror infests the glowing soil
Of the central land masses:
Eurasia and the Americas.
Africa is already gone,
As is Australasia. Knowing this is agony.
Ghosts have fled with us to the poles
Brilliantly deniable, but nonetheless, here.
We must assign duties to these ghosts
Even amidst this useless exile
A cold dream of contempt cover our tracks.