Sweeney, Matthew: The Hat

A green hat is blowing through Harvard Square
and no one is trying to catch it.
Whoever has lost it has given up –
perhaps, because his wife was cheating,
he took it off and threw it like a frisbee,
trying to decapitate a statue
of a woman in her middle years
who doesn’t look anything like his wife.
This wind wouldn’t lift the hat alone,
and any man would be glad to keep it.
I can imagine – as it tumbles along,
gusting past cars, people, lampposts –
it sitting above a dark green suit.
The face between them would be bearded
and not unhealthy, yet. The eyes
would be green, too – an all green man
thinking of his wife in another bed,
these thoughts all through the green hat,
like garlic in the pores, and no one,
no one pouncing on the hat to put it on.

Zelený klobúk sa nesie Harvardským námestím
a nikto sa ho nepokúša chytiť.
Ktokoľvek ho stratil, už sa ho vzdal –
možno preto, lebo žena ho podviedla,
sňal si ho a odhodil ako tanier na hádzanie,
sťať hlavu sochy ženy
v strednom veku pokúsil sa,
ktorá sa na jeho vôbec nepodobá.
Ten vietor by ho sám nezdvihol,
a každý muž by si ho rád ponechal.
Viem si predstaviť – ako sa zmieta pri
autách, ľuďoch a pozdĺž kandelábrov -
ako tróni nad tmavozeleným oblekom.
Medzi nimi tvár bradatá bola by,
a nie chorľavá, ešte... Aj oči
by boli zelené – celkom zelený človek,
ktorý myslí na svoju ženu v cudzej posteli,
jeho myšlienky presvitajú cez ten zelený klobúk,
ako cesnak v štrbinnách, a nikto,
nikto nesiaha po klobúku, aby si ho nasadil.