Níkos Davvétas
From: The Yellow Darkness of Van Gogh (1995)
Act III
but her body looked brisk, youthful
as they brought her onto the stage
with the frayed rope round her neck
the scratches on her chest and face
under the ivory skin
the vertebrae of her backbone in relief
step by step
they led up to the forest of her hair.
With a wet sponge I cleared away the blood
I washed her chest and armpits
so that beautiful she could travel to the daffodil
pastures
but her braid lay in my hand undecided
between black and white
O God keep the clay
and return to us her soul
for as long as the gates of heaven
remain unguarded.
Translated by Peter Constantine
Page(s) 179
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