Reclining Nude
(1949)
She is so beautiful.
Lying there
in nonchalant pose,
apparently at ease.
He has chosen
how we should see her:
hints of desired depths,
tantalising our eyes.
Her perfect form
in pigments,
seemingly close
to human touch.
I wonder if she lives,
or if an old woman
somewhere remembers
a day, a time long gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem