on night

Original version (Maltese):

“fuq lejl” by Leanne Ellul

Bħal-lejl int

Ma tistax tridek kif tixtieq

bid-dawl jittanta mill-ventilaturi toqba.

Il-ħars sparpaljat qed jokrob għalik.

Isma’, qaltlu, ġismi orgni mutu u jdejk

isbaħ minn qatt isbaħ minn qabel.

Idejk sħana stramba u sintomatika.

Invażiva l-kelma, dik hi.

Idejk paraventu pupletku

mill-ikħal tal-lejl abdikat

u issa qed jisbaħ.

Hemm xemx qed tiżvina biex tinkina.

U hemm sħana samra titmattar

minn għajnejk jittewbu.

Tgħid jibqa’ sabiħ il-lejl la narak

jew int issir isbaħ minnu?

English version:

“on night” translated by Albert Gatt

You’re like the night.

Wanted a way but not the way one would

as light pokes through the vents like nooks.

Smatter of glances keening for you.

Listen, she said, my body is a mute organ and your hands

more beautiful than ever even than before.

Your hands are heat, strange, symptomatic.

Invasive, is the word.

Your hands are seizing, shielding

the blue of abdicated night

and now day breaks.

There is a sun it’s bleeding out to taunt us.

And there’s a sun-kissed heat stretching its limbs

out of your yawning eyes. 

Will the night’s beauty hold when I see you

or will your beauty be more?