Nicole Brossard
translated
from French by Robert Majzels and Erin Mouré
THE THROAT OF LEE MILLER
/each time une phrase
opens with an I
she must be really young
and as we translate her
we must avoid saying never or in my view
I remember the throat of Lee Miller
one June day in Paris
/often in the same phrase I return
knowing to repeat just there
where worry still craves vows entwined
and as we translate
to explain my genre I watch
the throat of Lee Miller that year
it was worth every abstraction
/I often move to the same spot
a woman in love
to capture shade at the same hour
and as we translate
I breathe
the throat of Lee Miller perfection
of the image as I draw near
/often in the midst of the phrase I am
breathless I observe
I can stay that way a long time without memory
and as we translate
I touch certain places I exhaust myself
the throat of Lee Miller
no trace of a kiss
/above the city and the museum
huge intelligent lips signal
in a red that calls everything into question
and as we translate
I restrict myself to the top part of the work
the throat of Lee Miller around four in the afternoon
a silver-print day
/I often said every day
art stretches out in our lives as two-
edged dialogue
and as we translate
I cross the Rue de l’Observatoire
the throat of Lee Miller in mind
lips or bodies entangled I observe
/now in the thick of winter raging red
Geneviève Cadieux’s The Milky Way
I don’t think I suffered from the comparison
and as we translate
bien sûr il n’y a pas de rapport
the bared throat of Lee Miller
open to speculation