More poetry from Christine Busta

The translator traduttori traditori is a traitor. Here, in that case, another instance of Poet-in-Residence treason; again from the sensitive and illuminating poetry of Christine Busta. Don't tell the authorities in Rome!

TAKING UP

I have inherited my mother's
walking stick.
Her life was harder than mine,
and yet she needed it
much later than I.

Now, when I support myself with it,
I grip once more the hand
that my stubborness
so often resisted
and hear her quiet voice:

"I have always known
that you'll never take good care
of yourself. You are
too much my daughter.
Come! Stand up straight!"


CONVALESCENCE

With the last of my strength
I throw myself into a sleep;
only the breath of the eternal Creator
can wake me again.


AGAINST SO-CALLED REASON

The purest form of human intelligence
is goodness.
To your very end you'll need
all your foolishness and resistance
against so-called reason.


BAPTISM
OR WATER AND SAND

Those baptised with water
will have it lighter
than those baptised with sand.

For me, God mixed the sand
with spit.

_____________________________
Christine Busta (1915-87)
translated by Gwilym Williams
2009.