…iljaebT mairenar kibta

-ibpåb

( Vemirkar kibedr meDY …iljaebT Ÿmirena ÷duitYet ˆ°Ôl| A¤ePaeàhr pãa¹n gãajueyF,
sPl naFYkar …b„ naFYpircalk| bàtman kibta§il inˆ †yaàkar ŸTek Ÿnwya-…† piºkar
maDYem† tar kibtar saeT pircy Vmar| …Kn …kiF kibta idi¬C| iBÊmetr Sard s„KYay
VerkiF Anubad Takeb| 1981 sael ŸlKa kibr …kiF ŸSãò narIbaid kibta pafkedr jnY
Anubad krlam|)

bãa pCÆd He¬C na? oDàZY Dr!

(Take the Socks Out of Your Bra and Be Patient)

(1)
màs …iBinˆet pUebr bataes
wr ôaàF ˆReC|
ngÈ ˆr›et pãîP™iFt puraena Ÿpƒja tuela,
kƒaeDr wpr mDYaeH¡r sUàZY,
(ìƒFek paCa, Ÿdael wtFuk™†Î-)

"Ha† isåm, ŸHaya† muiB„ Ÿsa Paàö?"

jimet ŸcaK,
Kucerar ŸKƒaej sa†h pekeF kƒapa Hat,
ŸdKa Zak ZeTö ik na,
duesr duD,
Fukera r›iF
Vr
…k pYaekF nYapikenr jnY|
(2)

ŸmeyiFr ipyaena iSQekr AsIm oDàZY

Hyeta ŸmeyiF† Ÿbaka
"…Fa …rkm"
ik Ÿbaeàhr wpr Haetr dKl ŸdKan maöar mSa†!
bYàT Ÿcöa,
maöar mSa†eyr Haetr wpr wjn baRet Taek wr Cayar,
Vela VDƒarIr AnYmnï ŸKlaGr ŸZn!

tbuw …kidn
munla†F ŸsanaFa AàTbH Hey wef ŸmeyiFr kaeC,
paglIr meta Ger CueF …es
baijey celeC
Å›t, Vera Å›t, Vera, VeraÎ-
gmgm Se× gÝIr
ŸSex
V–ul peR na ifkfak
ta† Ÿnem Ves DIr ley, Vera DIer, VeraÎ

Ÿja‡øa Vr Ÿzweyr CÆd,

cumu Kae¬C ŸmeyiFr kpael|

(3)
ŸmeyFa Ÿdwyal Der ˆef per
Ba„curw ker,
tbuw wr baba wek haek
lQMI ma Vmar!

Original Poem:

Take the Socks Out of Your Bra and Be Patient

I
Eastbound on Morse Avenue
the breeze rustling her skirt
brushed cotton flowers against bare thighs
the sun hot on her shoulders
(So little hips to swing! So she swings ‘em just a little)
“Hey Slim, why you movin’ so fast?”
Eyes to ground, hands fumble
into side pockets, counting change -
just enough for, let’s see
a half-gallon of milk
a loaf of bread, and
a box of Kotex.

II
Her piano teacher was always patient;
maybe she was just stupid.
“It’s more like this,” he’d say
his fingers taking over the keyboard.

But it was useless,

the way the back hairs on his forearms
curled just so;
it was distracting.

The first time “Moonlight Sonata”

made any sense to her at all
was when she came home
mad as hell
and played it over and over
real fast.
It made so much noise, and
had so many fingering mistakes
that she had to slow ‘way down --
and suddenly the rhythm
of the waves and the moonlight
rose up to kiss her
on her forehead.

III
If she’s always walking into walls
and dropping things
why does her Dad always call her
my little Cyd Cherisse?