Athiná Papadáki
From: Ewe-Lamb of the Vapours (1980)
Ironing
Brain-shaped clouds
row across the clean window
as the azure rises
I iron
a damp shirt in puffs of steam.
The ordered-ness of things repels me.
Heavily, an anchor dubs me sea-bed so I am necessary.
Yet
I expand towards desertion as if I'd never passed
through the lines of the Lilies.
This planet of ours, this planet
with its precious needs!
what strength I need not to give in
to the role of honourable housewife.
For years now
the laundry basket
with its clothes like curled up lambs
grabs me
and devours my song.
I am almost panic-stricken.
I search for a name for my naked elbows.
As
the silent furniture
looks out to sea
and I lean on it,
the dust it leaves on my fingers is welcome company.
Translated by Christopher Robinson
Page(s) 53-54
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