Поколение битников. Переводы Алексея Караковского


Poem of refusals

No strong men in shirtsleeves /
striding thru /
my kitchen: warm & obtuse. /
No me curled-like-kitten around /
a leeping child & smiling /
seductively. /
No short skirts, no long /
breaths; I will not /
glance sidelong after reading a poem /
to see /
if you understood it. /
No cozy patios, front yards /
my cats /
will never be fat. No one /
will put me on a T-shirt; /
I may never /
learn to put on my own make-up. /
Don' wanna sit /
quiescent in the car while someonw else /
drives. No circles to go /
around in. No checkerboard /
linoleum. No. /
No dishwasher; washing machine /
unlikely. No flowers, /
good legs, plaintive /
poems about marriage. Wind /
is what men are, & my poems /
the sea. Children like grass /
on the hills - they hang /
in there. Or like a forest. /
They don't come & go. /
No rainbows. Only pelicans /
flopping clumsy, hoping /
for that one /
Big Fish. You can bet /
I won't be wistful, let it go by /
wondering later what it could have been like. /
My memories run together. /
And I'm none too sure now /
who did what to whom. /
What we did wrong. /
But I burned the script /
where I meet your eyes & smile.