Miss Twye

Miss Twye was soaping her breasts in her bath
When she heard behind her a meaning laugh
And to her amazement she discovered
A wicked man in the bathroom cupboard.

Office Friendships

Eve is madly in love with Hugh 

And Hugh is keen on Jim. 

Charles is in love with very few 

And few are in love with him. 

Myra sits typing notes of love 

With romantic pianist's fingers. 

Dick turns his eyes to the heavens above 

Where Fran's divine perfume lingers. 

Nicky is rolling eyes and tits 

And flaunting her wiggly walk. 

Everybody is thrilled to bits 

By Clive's suggestive talk. 

Sex suppressed will go berserk, 

But it keeps us all alive. 

It's a wonderful change from wives and work 

And it ends at half past five. 

MISS TWYE

Estava Miss Twye ensaboando as mamas na barrela

Quando atrás de mim um acintoso riso ouviu,

E para seu grande espanto olhando descobriu

Um homem mau no armário à espreita dela.

COLEGAS DE ESCRITÓRIO

A Eva está doida pelo Quim

Mas o Quim gosta do João.

O Carlos não tem paixões

E poucos por ele têm paixão.

Com dedos de pianista romântico

A São bate cartas de amor.

O Zé põe os olhos no céu

Onde paira o perfume da Leonor.

A Carla revira olhos e tetas

E rebola-se toda a andar.

E todos se excitam de gozo

Com as piadas do Valdemar.

Sexo reprimido dá em tarado,

Mas é o que nos aguenta.

É tão bom mudar do patrão e da mulher

E acabar às cinco e cinquenta.

Traduções de João Ferreira Duarte, em "LEITURAS

poemas do inglês", Relógio de Água, 1993. 

ENDING

The love we thought would never stop
now cools like a congealing chop.
The kisses that were hot as curry
are bird-pecks taken in a hurry.
The hands that held electric charges
now lie inert as four moored barges.
The feet that ran to meet a date
are running slow and running late.
Te eyes that shone and seldom shut
are victims of a power cut.
The parts that then transmitted joy
are now reserved and cold and coy.
Romance, expected once to stay,
has left a note saying GONE AWAY.

 

Hurried Love

Hear the poem        

Those who make hurried love don't do so

from any lack of affection

or because they despise their partner

as a human being -

what they're doing

is just as sincere as a more formal wooing.

She may have a train to catch; perhaps the

room is theirs for one hour only

or a mother is expected back or

some interruption

known, awaited -

so the spur of the moment must be celebrated.

Making love against time is really

the occupation of all lovers

and the clock-hands moving

point a moral:

not crude, but clever

are those who grab what soon is gone for ever.

Memory Man

I'm sitting drinking Guinness
in memory of you,
on the wall is written Finis
and although the love was true
if I were more romantic I would say sublime
it was not a love that lasted until closing time.

The glasses are being polished
as they shout 'Last orders, please!'
and illusions are demolished
with the same fantastic ease
as the ease with which Joe closes his democratic bar-
if I think of you now, it's 'you were' and not 'you are'.

Each man that loves a woman
must be prepared for this
for a sexual love is human
and betrayal by a kiss
is a commonplace and not just in the holy Book
and it all begins when your eyes take that first long look.

You must have the boldness
to overcome the moods,
the sulking and the coldness,
your love must feed on foods
which wouldn't keep alive a common tabby cat;
no one can have this without an awful lot of that.

So it's sadly time to drink up
and let them stack the chairs-
he's a wise man who can think up
a remedy that bears
much resemblance to an answer (Venus is a jerk?);
for that holiday is over-from now on it's back to work.

The Black Box

As well as these poor poems
I am writing some wonderful ones
They are all being filed separately,
nobody sees them.

When I die they will be buried
in a big black tin box
In fifty years' time
they must be dug up,

for so my will provides.
This is to confound the critics
and teach everybody

a valuable lesson