Má tá aithne agat ar do bhean, ar a cuid rithimí,
ar a cuid bealaí; má tá tú á tabhairt faoi deara
le blianta fada anuas, tá a fhios agat faoi mar a thagann sí
is mar a imíonn, mar a shleamhnaíonn sí
léi fiú agus í ina seasamh
san ait chéanna, tá a fhios agat go bhfuil
an domhan ina bhfuil sí ag imeacht uait go séimh,
agus ní d’aon ghnó é, níl ann ach gur eagal léi
a bheith mar gach uile ní, eagla uirthi í féin
a aimsiú ionatsa an t-am ar fad,
eagla uirthi go bhfiafróidh sí di féin lá éigin
agus an dá scór go maith aici, cá
raibh sí; má tá aithne agat ar do bhean,
tá a fhios agat an chuid is mó den am
go bhfillfidh sí, ach uaireanta is í ar seachrán
mar sin, d’fhéadfadh rud éigin í a chur dá
cúrsa agus is deacair teacht ar ais ansin.
Má tá aithne agat ar do bhean, tá’s agat
an tslí a gcuireann sí uirthi na bróga faoi shála arda,
agus ní duitse atá sí ag faighearsáil thart
mar ní mar gheall ortsa é seo – faoi
mar a cheannódh sí buataisí leathair
agus gan aon ní a rá ina thaobh,
agus ní thugann tusa faic faoi deara go dtí
go siúlann sí isteach oíche éigin, agus deir
sí go rabhadar aici riamh; feicfidh tú mar
a chailleann sí meáchan, ag ligean uirthi
nach faic é, ach nuair is léir nach bhfuil tú
ag féachaint, feiceann tú í ar aghaidh an scátháin
amach, a hucht á ardú aici is catsúil á tabhairt aici ar a
próifíl, agus í ag breathnú go neafaiseach
ar a tóin le haghaidh comharthaí beochta. Má tá
aithne agat ar do bhean, nuair a imeoidh tú, beidh
nithe le déanamh aici, siúl léi féin cuir i gcás,
scannán a fheiceáil, páirc phoiblí a aimsiú,
a cuid rún go léir a chnuasach is ní bheidh fhios agat
mar is í féin atá á lorg aici.
Agus ní déarfaidh sí leat gur mian léi a bhfuil le rá ag
fir dhíomhaoine a chlos nuair a ghabhann
sí thar bráid; mar ní leor an méid atá le rá
agatsa. Má tá aithne agat ar do bhean
tá’s agat nuair a imeoidh sí
braithfidh tú aibhéis mhór
an ghrá, agus níl tuairim agat
cén fáth a bhfuil sí ag éisteacht is ag portaireacht –
foinn nach raibh fhios agat gur chuala sí riamh
iad, agus gáirfidh sí os íseal mar gheall
ar faic. Má tá aithne agat ar do
bhean, tá’s agat mar a thagann is mar a
imíonn, is níl le déanamh ach fanacht
agus guí go dtiocfaidh sí ar ais chugat,
mar is eol duit go bhfuil do pheacaí chomh mór sin
go n-imeodh sí uait gan filleadh choíche ná go brách.
If You Know Her
If you know your woman, know her rhythms,
know her ways; if you paying attention
to her all these years, you will know
how she comes and goes, how she slips
away even though she is standing in
the same place, you will know that her
world is drifting softly from you, and she
may not mean it, because all it is
is she is scared to be everything, scared
to be finding herself in you every time,
scared that one day she will ask herself,
all forty-plenty years of her, where
she’s been; if you know your woman,
you will know that mostly she will
come back, but sometimes, when she
drifts like this, something can make her
slip; and then coming back is hard.
If you know your woman, you can
tell by the way she puts on heels,
and she does not sashay for you
because it is not about you—how
she will buy some leather boots
and not say a word about it,
and you only see it when she walks
in one night, and she says she’s had
them forever; you will see the way
she loses the weight and pretend
its nothing, but when she isn’t seeing you
looking, you can see how she faces the mirror
lifts her chest to catch a profile,
and how she casually looks at her
ass for signs of life. If you know
your woman, when you are gone, she
will find things to do, like walk
alone, go see a movie, find a park,
collect her secrets and you won’t know,
because she is looking for herself.
And she won’t tell you that she wants
to hear what idle men say when she
walks by them; because what you say
is not enough. If you know your
woman, you know when she’s going
away and you will feel the big
hole of your love, and you can’t
tell why she’s listening and humming
to tunes you did not know she heard
before, and she will laugh softly
at nothing at all. If you know your
woman, you will see how she comes
and goes, and all you can do is wait
and pray she will come back to you,
because you know that your sins
are enough for her to leave and not return.
“If You Know Her” le Kwame Dawes, as an leabhar “Duppy Conqueror: New and Selected Poems” (2013, Copper Canyon Press)