Athiná Papadáki
From: Ewe-Lamb of the Vapours (1980)
Cooking
I am frying.
The sound of the meatball monotonous,
an odour without fire.
Suddenly I am turned upside-down.
Foundations sets of plates, degenerated
leap into the air in slow motion.
A civilisation of objects diminishes me.
I throw down my apron.
Ascension
with full-bodied heel into the void,
turning inside out,
only a child can recognise me now.
A child is clinging to my skirt,
as pretty as an apple,
I bite into it,
with pain and love I inform those that follow
...still afloat and far from the barrages.
If they ask for me, I shall come straight back and set the table.
Translated by Christopher Robinson
Page(s) 56
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