Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill
Nude
The long and short
of it is I'd far rather see you nude—
your silk shirt
and natty
tie, the brolly under your oxter
in case of a rainy day,
the three-piece seersucker
suit that's so incredibly trendy,
your snazzy loafers
and, la-di-da,
a pair of gloves
made from the skin of a doe,
then, to top it all, a crombie hat
set at a rak-
ish angle—none of these add
up to more than the icing on the cake.
For, unbeknownst to the rest
of the world, behind the outward
show lies a body unsurpassed
for beauty, without so much as a wart
or blemish, but the brill-
iant slink of a wild animal, a dream-
cat, say, on the prowl,
leaving murder and mayhem
in its wake. Your broad, sinewy
shoulders and your flank
smooth as the snow
on a snow-bank.
Your back, your slender waist,
and, of course,
the root that is the very seat
of pleasure, the pleasure-source.
You skin so dark, my beloved,
and soft
as silk with a hint of velvet
in its weft,
smelling as it does of meadowsweet
or 'watermead'
that has the power, or so it's said,
to drive men and women mad.
For that reason alone, if for no other,
when you come with me to the dance tonight
(though as you know, I'd much prefer
to see you nude)
it would probably be best
for you to pull on your pants and vest
rather than send
half the women of Ireland totally round the bend.
--Irish; trans. Paul Muldoon
Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill, Irish, trans. Paul Muldoon, Pharaoh's Daughter, Wake Forest University Press, 1990.