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CZEŚĆ by Miriam Kotzin (translated from the English by Piotr Siwecki)

October 1, 2010 Contributed By: Miriam Kotzin, Piotr Siwecki

I.  Slavonic Dances

Your bare feet slap against the floor.
I am afraid my rooms are too small
for such leaping and whirling when
you fill my white spaces
with suddenly bright colors
and I know that not even for you
can I wear again in my hair red ribbons.

We are on opposite shores of the music.
All the rivers of Eastern Europe
flow through your veins,
carrying you dancing;
carrying you dancing through me brimming;
carrying you away from me, dancing, dancing.

II.  Second language

I cannot so much as manage
the syllables of your name,
and my own sentences have cracked
under the weight of your syntax,
“I know that not even for you
can I wear again in my hair red ribbons.”
But I respond to your murmured,
“Malutka, mala malutka,
little one, little little one,
Mir, Mirabelka, Mir, little plum.”

eye  oko
ear  ucho
nose  nos
eyelash  rzęsa
eyebrow  brew
forehead  czoło
lips  wargi
teeth zęby
tongue język
fingers  palce
palm dłoń
Slowly we translate our bodies.

“Zbyt dużo wątpliwości.”
Too many doubts.  You repeat it again and again,
“Zbyt dużo wątpliwości. Zbyt dużo wątpliwości.”
I understand nothing when you use abstractions.
Rather, name me.

III.  Refugee

You sleep on your side,
your back to me still a strange landscape;
just as I begin to map,
you shift your weight
creating whole new countries.
And I am lost again.

I. Tańce słowiańskie

Twoje bose stopy uderzają o podłogę
Obawiam się, że moje pokoje są zbyt małe
Na takie podskoki i wirowanie, gdy tak
Wypełniasz biel moich przestrzeni
Nagłym rozbłyskiem jasnych kolorów
A ja wiem, że nawet dla ciebie
Nie wepnę znów czerwonych wstążek we włosy.

Jesteśmy na przeciwnych brzegach muzyki.
Wszystkie rzeki Wschodniej Europy
Płyną w twoich żyłach,
Unoszą cię w tańcu
Unoszą cię w tym tańcu, a ja, przepełniona po brzegi
Unoszą cię, oddalasz się tańcząc, tańcząc.

II. Drugi język

Nie bardzo mogę sobie poradzić
Z sylabizowaniem twojego imienia,
A moje własne zdania popękały
Pod ciężarem twojej składni,
„Wiem, że nawet nie wepnę dla ciebie
Znów czerwonych wstążek we włosy.”
Ale reaguję na twój szept,
„Malutka, mała malutka,
Little one, little little one,
Mir, Mirabelka, Mir, little plum.”

eye  oko
ear  ucho
nose  nos
eyelash  rzęsa
eyebrow  brew
forehead  czoło
lips  wargi
teeth zęby
tongue język
fingers  palce
palm dłoń
Powoli tłumaczymy sobie nasze ciała.

„Zbyt dużo wątpliwości.”
Zbyt dużo wątpliwości. Powtarzasz raz za razem,
„Zbyt dużo wątpliwości. Zbyt dużo wątpliwości.”
Przestaję cokolwiek rozumieć, kiedy używasz pojęć abstrakcyjnych.
Mów raczej prosto do mnie.

III. Uciekinier

Śpisz, leżąc na boku,
Twoje plecy to dla mnie wciąż obcy krajobraz;
W chwili, gdy zaczynam uczyć się dróg,
Unosisz się
Tworząc w ten sposób wiele nowych krajów.
I znowu się gubię.

Return to table of contents for Issue 3 Fall 2010

Filed Under: Poetry, Translation Posted On: October 1, 2010

Further Reading

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Prologue See Dick and Jeanne meet at Syracuse. They played house on Falcon Avenue. They had fun. See Dick and Jeanne have three children: R. the dog, J. the cat, and R. the teddy bear. See Dick and Jeanne have a smashing time. Smash, glass, smash! See Dick and Jeanne separate in 1974 and lead […]

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Cup your hands over your face, breathe deeply you can smell upon your fingers and palms the history of the day and maybe even the evening before—a pungent olfactory document recorded in sweat, musk, coffee, dirt, grease cheeseburgers till the hand soap vandals come marauding gothic goop-mongers eradicating the evidence of another epoch tuck your […]

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