By Nirina Mignon
Sub ficum in floritum, inerma mei nundum nota
Fuit in supinum ignorantia, per saecula dilata;
Saecula Cybeli praecox et brulans,
Cui Saturnus dudum est palpans.
I have set votive wax to descend and falter,
Bleeding oblation — the plaintive altar
Lives diptych to lolling and recumbent evenings,
Seized by tears in redolence of wilted musings.
No need for the Noli me tangere’s hendiadys,
The cloak of Joseph befits Euripides.
In somnambulant fugue (sous haut portique),
Taste in Mystery is not little soporific.
«Le chiaroscuro charnu de ta nuque
Est réanimé contre le paravent turc.
Lorsqu’une nouvelle Judith tomba,
J’aurais trouvé un gallicisme dans Electra.»
Thus, Our Lady of Flowers,
Of irises, lattices, and lacrimal hours;
Of painted hands in ellipsis;
Of arrows finding their crevice
In skin lithe and alabaster,
Our decay shroud in gossamer.