Hope my chair’s free.
Few persons in the reading room today.
She’s sitting at my table.
I feel the hard wood beneath my fingers.
She’s resting her head on her arm.
I open my book.
Blonde hair fills each page.
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Blonde
A la bibliothèque
je monte le grand escalier.
J’espère que ma place est libre.
Peu de gens dans la salle de lecture aujourd’hui.
Elle est assise à ma table.
Je sens le bois dur sous mes doigts.
Elle pose la tête sur son bras.
J’ouvre mon livre.
Each morning the birdseller
stacks his cages on the sidewalk.
He stacks them high.
Walls of finches tower over him.
Dollar bills flap around his head.
He counts all day.
The tourists keep him in their cameras.
The birds fly off in their song.
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(audio en anglais)
…………….
*Inspired by the photograph
of Sam Tata, “Bird fancier,”
Shanghai, 1949.
………………………………
Le Marchand d’Oiseaux
Chaque matin il empile ses cages
sur le trottoir.
Il les empile haut.
Des murs de passereaux l’emprisonne.
Autour de sa tête des billets volent.
Il les compte toute la journée.
Les touristes le tiennent dans leurs appareils photos.
Les oiseaux s’envolent dans leur chant.
………………………………………….
For missing prisoners of war
bikers in black leather
circle the Battery this Memorial Day
their bodies rigid, their knees spread high.
They don’t look at the tourists
lined-up for the short trip
to Ellis Island or to the Statue of Liberty.
Small American flags
hang from their rear wheels.
The bursts of their engines
ricochet
off empty Wall Street buildings.
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Pour les Prisonniers de Guerre Portés Disparus
Des motards en cuir noir font le tour
du Parc de la Batterie ce dimanche après-midi
le corps raide, les genoux hauts.
Ces vétérans ne regardent pas les touristes
alignés pour le court voyage
à Ellis Island ou à La Statue de la Liberté.
De petits drapeaux américains
pendent de leurs roues arrières.
Le vacarme de leurs moteurs
O Susan Hot Sauce
cold noodle girl
dumpling spare rib
hot spring roll
O take-out bucket
wonton sweet and sour
paradise chicken
spiced lotus flower
O snow-pea-baby-shrimp-cup of tea
ice cream cookie
come back to me.
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O Suzanne Sauce Piquante
vierge des nouilles froides
beignet côtelette
rouleau de printemps chaud
O paquet à emporter
wonton doux amer
poulet de paradis
fleur de lotus sucrée
O petit pois, bébé crevette, tasse de thé
gâteau glacé
reviens à moi.
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Cages*