Anecdote
FIRST S OLILOQUY
Her breasts were small, upright, virginal;
Even through her clothes I could feel the nipples pointing upward when I touched her inadvertently.
The chastity of her garments was pronounced,
But no disposal of material could keep the shape of her breasts unseen.
And you would walk as a Spring wind,
You would order your demeanour as though there were still frost in the air,
You would keep me to my distance by the cool agreeableness of your speech.
You are foolish, Madam, or deceived.
Is it possible you underrate my sensibility
And do not realize that I hold your breasts
In the hollow of my hand?
S ECOND S OLILOQUY
His voice was a dagger tipped with honey,
His touch a scimitar dripping myrrh and gall.
He parted me from myself
And I stood alone in sunshine and trembled.
I caught my garments about me,
But they withered one by one as leaves wither, and fell.
I was alone in the wide sunlight;
His eyes were winds which would not leave me.
I would have sought a tree,
But the place where I was was bare and light.
Merciless light he shed upon me,
And I stretched my arms in shame and rejoicing.
Why do you stand there watching me?
Are you blind to what is really happening
That you talk so lightly of trifles?
Stop talking, you suffocate me.
Does any one notice?
Why do you strip me before all these people —
You, who care nothing for my nakedness?
Unbearable the anguish of my body,
The ache of my breasts,
The strain of covering myself is choking me.
Why do you do nothing but talk?
Have you no hands, no heart,
Or are you so cynical that you expose me for a whim?
Oh, I am well-trained, be sure of that,
But can you not see through my pretense?
It is agony to hold myself away from you,
Yet you are as impassive as a stone Hermes before whom Venus herself would need no cloak.
Now that you are gone, what have you left me?
No privacy at all, I think.
You have stolen my secrecy, and flung it back as something not worth taking.
I have only the harsh memory of your eyes,
Your dull, stone eyes which haunt me in the dark.
Her breasts were small, upright, virginal;
Even through her clothes I could feel the nipples pointing upward when I touched her inadvertently.
The chastity of her garments was pronounced,
But no disposal of material could keep the shape of her breasts unseen.
And you would walk as a Spring wind,
You would order your demeanour as though there were still frost in the air,
You would keep me to my distance by the cool agreeableness of your speech.
You are foolish, Madam, or deceived.
Is it possible you underrate my sensibility
And do not realize that I hold your breasts
In the hollow of my hand?
S ECOND S OLILOQUY
His voice was a dagger tipped with honey,
His touch a scimitar dripping myrrh and gall.
He parted me from myself
And I stood alone in sunshine and trembled.
I caught my garments about me,
But they withered one by one as leaves wither, and fell.
I was alone in the wide sunlight;
His eyes were winds which would not leave me.
I would have sought a tree,
But the place where I was was bare and light.
Merciless light he shed upon me,
And I stretched my arms in shame and rejoicing.
Why do you stand there watching me?
Are you blind to what is really happening
That you talk so lightly of trifles?
Stop talking, you suffocate me.
Does any one notice?
Why do you strip me before all these people —
You, who care nothing for my nakedness?
Unbearable the anguish of my body,
The ache of my breasts,
The strain of covering myself is choking me.
Why do you do nothing but talk?
Have you no hands, no heart,
Or are you so cynical that you expose me for a whim?
Oh, I am well-trained, be sure of that,
But can you not see through my pretense?
It is agony to hold myself away from you,
Yet you are as impassive as a stone Hermes before whom Venus herself would need no cloak.
Now that you are gone, what have you left me?
No privacy at all, I think.
You have stolen my secrecy, and flung it back as something not worth taking.
I have only the harsh memory of your eyes,
Your dull, stone eyes which haunt me in the dark.
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