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Rafael Drinot Silva

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Dying Embers in the Hearth Warm the Old Folk

1

Dying embers in the hearth warm the old folk but the cold
         creeps in
through the cracks of the years one’s family isn’t a fist
         clenched against hard times
you can’t guard against the future
the chest of drawers full of moths
- for bronchial complaints, an infusion of rue - on top of
         all that the bills are never late
and your pension from the ministry’s never on time
a guitar without strings at the far end of the room a candle
         below the picture of Our Lord
while damp erodes the walls and the fading smiles
of a family once united

2

the knights of the round table secretly positioned behind
         the trees
Tomás bringing up the rearguard from the gate - St. John’s
         School
on the rooftop the Tigers of Mompracen with knives between
         their teeth
Anna Karenina in danger
         - look out!
         one false move and -
Robin Hood and Little John awaiting my orders
I read my first books crouched in a tree with my legs tucked in
pomegranate skins piled up behind the school drain
I knew how to dream on the empty patio at 5PM
From time to time we did save Anna Karenina
but the usual thing was:
the drunken social studies teacher
ringing the bell, ‘in single file,’ marching into the dining-room
Tomas the driver of the school-bus
died in a brawl
Pity:
he was the only one who knew
all/the rules/of/the/rearguard

 

Translated by Jane Ramsden, C.A. de Lomellini and David Tipton

Page(s) 33

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