the chess game
we first met over a game of chess
a common passion
that turned into an everyday-ritual
coffee accompanied the moves
both trivial and complex
most evenings I won
he smiled away his defeats
evenings turned late
coffee-time ran into pre-dinner drinks
dinner often followed
his was the first move
that stormy evening
as he shoved aside the checkered board
night stammered through shivers of touch
and flushed trembling lips
reason took a backseat despite my feminine grace
i became a willing chessboard
every move belonged to him
he overshot legitimate paths
in earnestness for short cuts
to declare the final check-mate
my thoughts ran a frantic search
through pages of history of
this complex game
for a clever counter-strategy
but failed
a sharp satirical thrust said it all
today in my first defeat
i had perhaps lost forever
he turned over, smiling his first victory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem