On again
Again. Take me out of my depth.
These legs below me flailing, flailing.
Again take me
to where I dive and make for
pebbles that I take for rock.
Amid me algae crushing through.
It’s warm today.
I take a breath of sky you listen
your face turned to the light.
Shadow keeps you under wraps enwraps you as it falls.
You’re in your element, you are.
Shall I dive back into you?
And I’m a tease
a come on forming through my lips.
Fuq erġa’
Erġa’ ħudni fejn ma jilħaqlix.
Nagħti b’das-saqajn u nagħti.
Erġa’ ħudni
fejn nogħdos u nilħaq
iċ-ċagħaq nistħajlu blat.
Alkiet tal-qiegħ jitħaxknu minn bejni.
Sħun illum.
Nieħu nifs mis-sema tisma’
b’wiċċek għad-dawl.
Id-dlam jostorlok jostrok kif jaqa’.
Qisek mhux int, int.
Tridx nerġa’ nogħdos fik?
U bl-inkejja kollha tiegħi
bej’ xufftejja ngħidlek, ejja.
On your hand
Between translucent palm and bedside table
a seventy-two-year arid stretch.
Clam shells, your hands,
your hull’s flare in the palm hold.
Enshrouding bone on bone.
Curved like a whale.
Washed up.
Left high and dry.
The whiff of sea. A sea of fret.
You fret about everything.
And it’s a chore, explaining where you came from
how long ago you were born
when the maybes of your life began
to be fulfilled or maybe left unfulfilled
their pending questions hanging still
a sentence over your head.
Reaching for answers you continue to look down.
Your eyes forever riveted to the floor plane;
your eyes stay riveted
but your incline steepens slightly
over the table and you raise your specs
and put them on and it’s a sight better, a clearer sight.
It helps you get the measure of things
size up the situation,
its proportions, for example
to figure out your age
you need to reckon life in teeth
that one by one have fallen out.
The leathery vessel of your face
a stern bow facing the storm
cold-shouldering pettiness and platitude.
A farer of fair weather and foul.
Broadside is a word you learned
by dint of the seventy years you’ve lived.
Three tenses, you arrange them in perspective
before ambling off to bed: past, present and now.
And it’s a struggle, pulling your gaze away from now
until you manage, nearly.
Let’s leave it there, shall we?
We’ll weather the storm.
We’ll see…
Fuq idek
Minn idek fina għall-komodina
hemm tnejn u sebgħin sena nexfin.
Idejk arzell
pali jfesdqu ġismek battiljar.
Għadam għadam igeżwruh.
Mgħawweġ balena.
Mitluqa max-xatt.
Mitluqa għal riħha.
Riħa ta’ baħar. Baħar ta’ inkwiet.
Tinkwieta fuq kollox.
Tegħja tispjega minn fejn ġejt
kemm ilek li twelidt
minn mindu l-forsijiet ta’ ħajtek
bdew jitwettqu u forsi ma twettqux
u baqgħu mistoqsija mdendla tpendel
fuq rasek sentenza.
Tipprova twieġeb u tibqa’ tħares ’l isfel.
Qatt ma taqla’ għajnejk mill-art invell;
qatt ma taqla’ għajnejk
imma tinklina tikk’iktar
fuq it-tavolina u ttella’ n-nuċċali
u tilbsu tar’aħjar, ċar.
Jgħinek tara d-daqsijiet tas-sitwazzjonijiet,
il-proporzjonijiet, ngħidu aħna
biex tifhem kemm għandek żmien
trid tgħodd ħajtek bis-snien
li waqgħu waħda waħda.
Wiċċek qoxra
pruwa ppuppata tilqa’ għal dat-taħbit
u għala biebek mit-tron tal-għerf u l-pettikolezzi.
Baħħar tal-bnazzi u l-maltemp f’daqqa.
La ġenba kelma li tgħallimtha
bis-sebgħin sena l’għandek.
Tpoġġi dat-tliet tempijiet f ’perspettiva
u titlaq torqod: passat, preżent u issa.
Titħabat biex taqla’ issa minn quddiemek
sa ma kważi ġġibha żewġ.
Tridx biżżejjed?
Ħallih ħa jħabbat.
Issa naraw…
LEANNE ELLUL lectures in Maltese. She writes both poetry and prose. In the past she has written for theatre and currently writes both textbooks and books for children, namely the award-winning books Noè u l-Iskojjatlu bla Kwiet (Merlin Publishers, 2019) and L-Istorja ta’ Seb it-Tieni (u ta’ Seb l-Ewwel ukoll) (Merlin Publishers, 2019). Ellul also has translated a number of works to Maltese. In 2016 she was named the emerging author of the year. Her first collection of poems is entitled L-Inventarju tal-Kamra l-Kaħla [The Blue Room Inventory] (Merlin Publishers, 2020). Ellul is part of a number of entities that have the Maltese language and culture at heart, namely Inizjamed and Fondazzjoni HELA. www.leanneellul.net
ALBERT GATT trained as a linguist and computer scientist. His research focuses on the use of language in artificial (AI) and human systems, and on the relationship between perceptual and symbolic data. He has translated poetry and prose by several Maltese authors, including Clare Azzopardi, Karl Schembri, Claudia Gauci and Achille Mizzi. Recent translations include Last-Ditch Ecstasy by Adrian Grima (Malta: Midsea Books, 2017 and Mumbai: Paperwall Publishing) and In the Name of the Father by Immanuel Mifsud (UK: Parthian, 2020). Excerpts from his translation of the modernist classic Nanna’s Children in America by Juann Mamo (1934) have appeared in the journal Countertext. He currently works at Utrecht University in the Netherlands, and is also affiliated with the University of Malta.
