A woman sits on a couch, and the speaker watches her closely. Her face is full of movement and tension, but her eyes shift between tiredness and calm. Her lips look like the remains of a past love, as if that love once gave her whole face a warm, sunset-like glow. Even her body seems to make the couch answer her as she moves, as though the furniture responds to her restlessness. But underneath this, she is troubled. The couch still carries the cold touch of a lover, and that chill passes into her, reaching her heart. The mood is intimate, eerie, and sad. The speaker’s tone is tender but watchful, noticing both her beauty and her unease, as though we are in the room with someone physically present but emotionally haunted by a love that has grown cold or gone.
Minna XIV — Summary
Sometimes jaded, sometimes tranquil, Your eyes invade the tumult of your face. Your lips are the remnants of a love That made a sunset-cup of your face. The movements of your body Caress the couch you sit on into sound That seems to answer your words. You are restless because upon this couch The cold touch of your lover lies And seeps into you, reaching your heart.