Poeżija u Informazzjoni - Poetry & Information
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  • Tango

    Posted on March 29th, 2009 Admin No comments


    Il-lejla nheżheż ix-xafra ta’ sikkina
    bejn snieni
    u noħorġu niżfnu t-tango
    taħt il-kordi tal-kwiekeb maqrusa
    li jroxxu stalletti ta’ dmugħ.

    Fih riħa ta’ dmija vjola
    il-ħarir ħamrani daqs in-nar.
    Ħalli mxeblek fuq ġbinek
    nokklu spanjol milwi ganċ.
    L-imrewħa taħbilek il-qaws ta’ ħuġbejk
    mimlija malizzja.

    Illejla nonfħu spirti tal-peprin
    f’ħalq il-mewt.
    Daqs il-mewt ikidd il-pjaċir
    li jivvampja fil-vini.
    Doqquli…mhux għodwiet sofor ċlampu
    bid-dija sfumata
    imma ħmura ffukata fi ljieli ġamrin.

    It-tango fiħ passju tal-ħajja mal-mewt,
    azzar ittemprat qed jinħema
    jintlewa trabokk.

    It-tango fih liwi ta’ fraxxnu jitgħawweġ,
    jitbaskat f’nirien mingħajr tmiem.
    It-tango fih riħa ta’ nċira tinħaraq,
    fih żlieq fuq għadajjar ta’ demm.
    Ħruxija fih it-tango daqs ir-rum
    u żegħil bħal ta’ kobra.

    It-tango korrida mal-barri tas-sess,
    bħal ponta li tidħol bil-mod
    bla ma toqtol.

    It-tango fih skoss xħin ix-xafra
    tkun waslet biex tinfed il-qalb.

    Fit-tango
    hemm żugraga qed tagħqad,
    tisfuma fil-bjuda l-pjaċir ta’l-orgażmu
    ġol-għaxwa tal-Mewt.

    Tonight I’ll grasp the blade ‘twixt my teeth.
    and we’ll take to the floor
    to dance the tango
    under the plucked strings of the stars
    dribbling daggers of tears.

    Silk, red as fire
    smells of violet blood.
    Curved on your forehead,
    let down a Spanish curl like a hook.
    Your fan hides the curves of your eyebrows
    full of malice.

    Tonight….we’ll blow spirits of poppies
    in the mouth of death.
    Like the agony of death is the searing pleasure
    that flames in the veins.
    Play for me, music…not of the jaundiced mornings
    dense with the subdued glare,
    but of the intense redness of the nights of ember.

    Tango is a Russian roulette with death,
    it is tempered steel being forged
    into a snare.

    Tango is the bending of oak
    scorched in endless fires.
    Tango has the smell of sealing wax being burnt,
    the skidding upon puddles of blood.
    Tango has the pungency of rum
    and the seduction of the cobra.

    Tango is a bullfight with sex,
    like a barb slowly penetrating
    without killing.

    In the tango there is a jerk
    when the blade is at the point
    of transfixing the heart.

    In tango there is a spinning top
    transfusing the orgasmic whiteness of pleasure
    into the ecstasy of death.

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