Translators Are Angels

Translators are angels, I whispered
into the ear of my guardian angel in King João Library.
They stand beside us, hearing out thoughts,
only muttering what’s necessary. Smiling slightly,
listening carefully to the speaker who’d mentioned my name,
she said: We are perfect nobodies; nameless,
voiceless, winged incandescence, except when we’re bad.
Then she turned to me: Like now, if I don’t tell you what he said —

- John Mateer