ted hughes as translator


O fold me away between blankets
And leave me alone.
And let the door of my room be locked forever –
Never to be opened, even for you, should you come.

Red wool and soft bed. Every chink definitely sealed.
Not a book by my bed – no, not one book.
Instead, at all times, there, just in reach,
Gorgeous patisseries and a bottle of Madeira.

more from Ted Hughes’ previously unpublished translations of Mário de Sá Carneiro, Paul Eluard, Lorenzo de Medici and Federico García Lorca at the TLS here.