Kiss

Abstract

Eva Baltasar Eva Baltasar was born inBarcelona in 1978 and now lives inGirona. She studied educational theory at the Universit?t de Barcelona and the Freie Universit?t in Berlin. Her publications include two books of poetry: Laia (2008), fromwhich the present translations are drawn, and At?viques feres (2009; Atavistic beasts). Glebe I stack up ears of corn all over your body without hurting even a single poppy. Span by span, I traceyour trails with thegentle, browned hands of amower who loves your fields and knows theirborders. Desire is a scatteringof soil filledwith ancient seeds thatgerminate without expecting the least sign of rain. Iperfect a precisely formed shadow with every part ofme andmaintain it flush with you, likea faint mist that littleby littlegrows thicker and seems to rub against theearth, as if wanting to cut a broad enough path to reach theother sidewith a clean face. I traverse all your places: beyond you the land bears no name. Kiss As amouth newly come into the world opens and usurps theentire face with a single cry,piercing and constant such is the claim of every living thing when forced to liveuncared foras a mouth arrives at the instant, unperceived yet precise, when thevoice is reconciled toallmanner of silence provided itsupports and retains a rhythm, so my mouth plunges into yours, greedily, utterly relentless, with the newborn's unseeing annoyance at seeking thebreast in the wrong place but perceiving the sweet tasteofmilk inevery pore of skin, incited to lickevery bit and to focus on it. Thus my mouth invades you. Princess Let's consider the poem an excuse, once again. I'll spell a rabble ofwords already scrawled, intendingdiscreetly tomove closer to the true word. Fd be a littlegirl, and at thebeach, firstthing in the morning, you'd have a trailof shells and other things thatare reallyvery important, like the imprintofmy fingers,a border on the wet sand that takes you straight to thedoors of our house. You getmy drift: we'd be girls and spell house with the six lettersof the tallest castle. The excuse, between battlement and tower,would justifythepoem. And you would be theprincess. Translationsfrom the Catalan By LawrenceVenuti 56 i World Literature Today ...