Poem
Piotr Sommer
Overhearing
And of course the birds go on chirping, and how!Even if they’re not chirping.
Bah, wires can chirp almost as well,
so it’s easy to confuse them. It’s altogether loud
and sensuous, almost phonetic.
And the flowers blossom to make things colorful,
and later wither, first on the graves, but they’re bent
out of shape there, mostly due to us
passing by on the paths between the trees
as if nothing had happened.
And no way to avoid the brown-eyed gaze of the pansies,
which have all but disappeared now from the flower beds,
forced out by nasturtiums and marigolds. No flower beds either.
All the hazel eyes are rotting now underground.
© Translation: 2009, Christian Hawkey and William Martin
AFGELUISTERD
En natuurlijk tsjilpen de vogels nog steeds, en hoe!Zelfs als ze niet tsjilpen.
Wat zeg ik, de draden tsjilpen bijna net zo goed,
je hoort geen verschil. Verder is het welluidend
en zinnelijk, zonder meer fonetisch.
En de bloemen bloeien, om het kleurrijk te maken,
en dan verwelken ze, eerst op de graven, want daar zijn ze gesneden,
door alles, nog het meest door die ziel van ons
die over laantjes tussen de bomen door lopen,
alsof er niets is gebeurd.
En je kunt niet om de donkerbruine blik van de violen heen
die vandaag vrijwel ontbreken in de bloembedden,
verdrongen door Oost-Indische kers en afrikaantjes. Er zijn ook geen bloembedden.
Alle bruine ogen rotten reeds onder de zoden.
© Vertaling: 2009, Tsead Bruinja en Karol Lesman
PODSŁUCH
I oczywiście dalej ćwierkają ptaki, i to jak!Nawet jak nie ćwierkają.
Ba, druty potrafią ćwierkać niewiele gorzej,
że można je pomylić. W ogóle jest dźwięcznie
i zmysłowo, wręcz fonetycznie.
I kwitną kwiaty, żeby było kolorowo,
a potem więdną, najpierw na grobach, bo tam są cięte
na wszystko, najbardziej na nas
przechodzących alejkami pośród drzew,
jak gdyby nigdy nic.
I nie ma jak uniknąć piwnego wzroku bratków
których prawie nie ma dziś na klombach,
wyparły je nasturcje i aksamitki. Nie ma też klombów.
Wszystkie brązowe oczy gniją już pod ziemią.
© 2009, Piotr Sommer
From: Dni i noce
Publisher: Biuro Literackie, Wrocław
From: Dni i noce
Publisher: Biuro Literackie, Wrocław
Poems
Poems of Piotr Sommer
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Overhearing
And of course the birds go on chirping, and how!Even if they’re not chirping.
Bah, wires can chirp almost as well,
so it’s easy to confuse them. It’s altogether loud
and sensuous, almost phonetic.
And the flowers blossom to make things colorful,
and later wither, first on the graves, but they’re bent
out of shape there, mostly due to us
passing by on the paths between the trees
as if nothing had happened.
And no way to avoid the brown-eyed gaze of the pansies,
which have all but disappeared now from the flower beds,
forced out by nasturtiums and marigolds. No flower beds either.
All the hazel eyes are rotting now underground.
© 2009, Christian Hawkey and William Martin
From: Dni i noce
From: Dni i noce
Overhearing
And of course the birds go on chirping, and how!Even if they’re not chirping.
Bah, wires can chirp almost as well,
so it’s easy to confuse them. It’s altogether loud
and sensuous, almost phonetic.
And the flowers blossom to make things colorful,
and later wither, first on the graves, but they’re bent
out of shape there, mostly due to us
passing by on the paths between the trees
as if nothing had happened.
And no way to avoid the brown-eyed gaze of the pansies,
which have all but disappeared now from the flower beds,
forced out by nasturtiums and marigolds. No flower beds either.
All the hazel eyes are rotting now underground.
© 2009, Christian Hawkey and William Martin
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