Love in a caald climate by Christine De Luca

Hit wisna his widden palin
nor da openwark o steyns set
ta brack da wind, nor
da hedder he prammed
atween fences; nor

da tang he tör fae da ebb
an turned an turned, nor
his fingers brackin clods;
nor wis hit da sun scrimin
peerie-wyes. Na, hit wis

da draem shö planted
an a rösin ithin her luik
as shö stakit hit, willin
da wan rose ta oppen,
ta hadd mirknen.


Love in a cold climate

It wasn’t his wooden paling
nor the stone latticework set
to break the wind, nor
the heather he stuffed
between fences; nor

the seaweed he tore from foreshore
and turned and turned, nor
his fingers breaking clods;
nor was it the sun making things out
gently. No, it was

the dream she planted
and the praise within her look
as she staked it, willing
the one rose to open,
to hold twilight.


L’amour sous un climat froid - translated by Jean-Paul Blot

Ce n’était pas sa palissade,
ni le mur en pierres sèches
pour couper le vent, ni
la bruyère pour boucher
les clôtures, ni

le varech qu’il tirait depuis le rivage
et qu’il tournait et retournait, ni
ses doigts brisant des mottes ;
ni le soleil faisant doucement
ressortir les choses. Non, c’était

le rêve qu’elle plantait,
encouragement dans son regard
tandis qu’elle l’étayait, désirant
que s’ouvre la rose,
qu’elle retienne le crépuscule.


Christine De Luca, Edinburgh, UK