Breyten Breytenbach - In a burning sea

 

how often were we wrapped in coolness on the floor

the smell of turpentine and fire

the canvases white to our empty eyes

night's indifference

and the moon a smile somewhere outside

out of sight

days decompose like seasons beyond the panes

leaves of rain, a face, a cloud, this poem

I wanted to leave my imprint on you

to brand you with the flaming hour

of being alone

no fire sings as clear

as the silver ashes of your movements

and your melancholy body

I wanted to draw that sadness from you

so that you might be revealed

the way a city opens

on a bright landscape

filled with pigeons and the fire of trees

and silver crows also out of sight in the night

and the moon a mouth that one can ignite

and then I wished that you could laugh

and your body bitter

my hands of porcelain on your hips

your breath such a dark-dark pain

a sword at my ear

how often were we here

where only silver shadows stir

only through you I had to deny myself

through you alone I knew I had no harbor

in a burning sea