Agoloso Presents - Atondido Stories Agoloso Presents - Mama Mada | Page 168

Mama Mada
Horse-drawn Slave
by Ivy Alvarez
Abide these shackles do I, how horse-teeth tears at me, its mane my bed.
The field needs me to till. Earth churns and turns. The beast is tired.
Wide-gaited for a wee thing. I say Go rse and he turns his head.
See? Go rse. Sometimes dense. How the cold wraps us both,
like breath expired.
Mind it, Gorse, and he does. The sea comes and goes out of sight.
Rest for a water gulp. We plough. We furrow,
shackle-heavy, blinkered view.
Find fences, rocks. Fairy skirts of lichen! Soon it be night.
Oppressed of sight, poor Gorse. We share apple bite, no harvest new,
complain naught, pointless as a mound. Indentured under reign,
the owner says, and I nod, click my tongue, mud covering me.
The Point Of Flame translation
by Co no r Kelly
All his long life
he loved to read
by candle light.
He often passed
his hand through flame
to show himself
he was alive.
He was alive.
Now, since he died,
he lies beside
a candle flame
but hides his hands.
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