their earthy names are strewn on her sheets which are blue with cold

Seated on her doorstep made of deaf stones 

she searches for the visible part of her dream 

facing the mountain which gesticulates in the dark 

 

Cold-bodied men are immured in her walls 

she retains their reproachful looks 

and that way of tilting their heads backwards 

as if they were discovering a new star 

as if they were drinking from a clay jar 

 

Their earthy names are strewn on her sheets which are blue with cold 

 

If she merely sponges their shadows off the kitchen tiles 

and the male odor that soaks their Sunday clothes 

the night will retreat 

toward the neighboring field 

 

[Vénus Khoury-Ghata {1937- } 'Seated on her doorstep', trans. from the French by Marilyn Hacker, from She Says]