CAMILLE CLAUDEL
I showed her where to find gold,
But the gold that she found was her
own.
Auguste
Rodin
Ma tres chere Camille, my pupil,
my mistress Je te honore
Aurora stealing from shadows to
tint
a rose petal Je
t’apprecie
Auburn hair streams like lava to
your nymph’s waist
Your brow bears the air of a
proud ship tempest-tossed Je t’admire
Green eyes pale as forest shoots
Skitter wild, wild like
those of a timid hart Je
te cheris
A voluptuous mouth to seal for
aeons The Kiss
Throat, a white-water gorge in a
mantle of lace Je te desire
Marmoreal breasts my warm fingers tweak
Marmoreal breasts my warm fingers tweak
and mould to perfection Je
t’embrasse
Teasing tetins into the ascendant
–
ah, framboises d’ambroisie Je
t’adore
Torso swaying to the willow at
the Clos Payen
Body arched back like Cupid’s
curved brow Je te
deguste
Kneeling, your back resembles an
amphora
into which I drown in nectar Je
t’aime
Limbs slim and glabrous as supple
creepers
through which serpents writhe Je te possede
Snatches of coppery maidenhair
entrance your grotto
O sculptress sculpted, my rose
figurine Je te
devore
I set you up in marble
And yet on the Meudon road,
crouching Je te plains
in undergrowth
to watch me pass
You are filthy-haggard and quite
insane Je te
laisse partir
Michael
Small
December, 1990
published Harvard Review,
no. 2, Fall, 1992, USA
revised version, March, 2017
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