Night after night
you splay my naked back
across the pyre
of your flameless altar
My womanhood annihilated
by terror that sets my lips
chattering, vibrating
You clasp your victor’s wreath
around my neck with your clapper-tongue
My breasts, the pillow
for your head to rest upon,
while you greedily, rhythmically
thrust and soothe against my pelvis
I breathe the stench of hatred;
you reek of nutmeg
Beyond the window
a vain dove beats its weary wings,
sourly, turning its circle-feathers
into a soot-heap of ash,
I pray for the aubade
and I pray for mercy
out of this Hades
My offering in soul-agony
I carry away from you, clothed
to where I, as Pandora,
can go and avenge you
Where the trade wind
can offer chaste shelter
to me,
and our unborn child
Literary translation from the Afrikaans poem, ‘Gehuud Verkrag’, by: Roxy Van Zyl – 25/08/2024
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