The Catherine Wheels run riot,
crackling through the night
like a herd
of excitable colts,
the sky their playground,
the earth
depository
of nuts and bolts
Where Andrew
breasts the wind,
heart pounding
a sympathetic spectacle
of imaginary colour,
greens shading into pinks
and oranges to indigos.
He’s a new-enamoured lover
of the wheel-man's silhouette
a-lick with fire;
his conductor’s wand in hand,
he’s a red-checked general
after the massacre,
an explorer sighting land...
Your son waits
for the heavens to flame again.
But they're packing the wheels away.
And Andrew dreams of Catherine Wheels
long into the following day.
Adrian Grima (born 1968) Malta
Translated by Miriam Gamble
Source: Adrian Grima's website
crackling through the night
like a herd
of excitable colts,
the sky their playground,
the earth
depository
of nuts and bolts
Where Andrew
breasts the wind,
heart pounding
a sympathetic spectacle
of imaginary colour,
greens shading into pinks
and oranges to indigos.
He’s a new-enamoured lover
of the wheel-man's silhouette
a-lick with fire;
his conductor’s wand in hand,
he’s a red-checked general
after the massacre,
an explorer sighting land...
Your son waits
for the heavens to flame again.
But they're packing the wheels away.
And Andrew dreams of Catherine Wheels
long into the following day.
Adrian Grima (born 1968) Malta
Translated by Miriam Gamble
Source: Adrian Grima's website
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