Poem
Ursula Andkjær Olsen
GARDENSENSIBILITIES
the names are written on signs/the growth is tall and thick inthe garden everything finds its name/full with held breath
and rustling
what shall I say in a garden where everything has a name
nothing?
*
yet another question: what
can I say?
justice requires imagination/requires
ornament/profusion/poetry/not
exposure/thus truth becomes profusion/it merely states what is there
once more and nothing else
*
in a garden where everything has a name nothing
is possible/but
does everything have a name?/does that garden exist?
in a garden where some things have names and some do not everything is
possible/everything humanly possible
in such a garden
nothing nothing human is foreign to it here is precisely
namedrowning/nameless
*
inside the fence/what can I say?
nametangled
*
I give
buttons, fringes, umbels, leaves, bulbs, and pods their names to
enjoy them all the more and hear them rustle as the
buttons, fringes, umbels, leaves, bulbs, pods,
and berries
they are/and let them banish my dejection
*
a garden where I have called everything by its proper name
where I can give things their names/only at night at night is
enough/it is sudden salvation
here I will quench my namethirst
*
here I will rest armtangled
*
where I have called by its proper name/all that should be called
by name
and let the rest be
a waiting rustling place/what does it wait for? what does it wait for?
to speak of things that have no names
yet/which are so small/or to think of things so evil they no longer
have a name/with held breath/not
allowed to have a name anymore
should nothing
human be foreign to me? I hope so or else
I hope not
*
the profusion is always there/even when it is a
profusion that no one seems to need
*
everything may have a name but
I could come up with new ones for the lot if I wanted because
I am awake alone so
green fans red beads blue/veils and reveals/healthy and unhealthy
night with steeplehigh lightning
and even universal laws feel voluntary/now
small tortoiseshell/dwell in my tiny tortoise
shell
now
*
gardens seem more humane than
humans/with all their costumes
the special order
*
neither too much freedom nor too little
to speak is so human it is like the
avenue of sphinxes/speechless faces/stoneheavy meaning not one
word over the lips/while all forms/the trees the houses flowers and windows
and the neighbors’ curtains and the living rooms behind them maybe they are quiet
quiet living rooms
no one is innocent but some are pure and many
many do have wings
*
but the costumes
are part of the dream which is part of
reality/which is why the unadorned is sphinx-like/like a thing without a name
*
the garden grows thicker and thicker
more and more hanging/full/dry
nametangled/is all that just ornament? it is
profusion/excess/ornament if ornament is inevitable/what can I say?
goodnightshades
goodnightshades
the garden is quiet before fruiting/tonight the names set
sail
© Translation: 2010, Thom Saterlee
Publisher: First published on PIW, , 2010
Publisher: First published on PIW, , 2010
TUINVERMOEDENS
de namen staan op naambordjes/het gewas is hoog en zwaar inde tuin staat alles met naam en toenaam/verzadigd met ingehouden adem
te ritselen
wat moet ik zeggen in een tuin waar alles een naam heeft
niets?
*
stel een andere vraag: wat
kan ik zeggen?
rechtvaardigheid eist verbeeldingskracht/eist
versiering/overvloed/poëzie/geen
ontmaskering/dus is waarheid het overbodige/dat alleen maar zegt wat er
nogmaals is en niets anders
*
in een tuin waar alles een naam heeft is
niets mogelijk/maar
heeft alles een naam?/bestaat die tuin?
in een tuin waar iets een naam heeft en iets anders niet is alles
mogelijk/al het mogelijk menselijke
in zo’n tuin
niets niets menselijks is haar vreemd hier is juist
het naamdronkene naamloos
*
binnen de heg/wat kun je zeggen?
te goeder naam
*
ik geef
knopen, franjes, schermen, bladeren, bollen en peulen namen om me
er nog meer over te verheugen en ze te horen ritselen als de
knopen, franjes, schermen, bladeren, bollen, peulen
en bessen
die ze zijn/en ze mijn mismoedigheid te laten verdrijven
*
een tuin waar ik alles bij de juiste naam heb genoemd
waar ik de dingen een naam moet geven/alleen ’s nachts ’s nachts is
genoeg/dat is plotseling verlossing
hier stil ik mijn naamdorst
*
hier wil ik en faam bekend zijn
*
waar ik dat met zijn juiste naam heb genoemd dat
genoemd moet worden
en de rest laten staan
een wachtende ritselende plek/waar wacht die op? waar wacht die op?
over dingen te praten die nog niet heten
die zo klein zijn/of aan dingen te denken zo slecht dat ze geen
naam mogen hebben/met ingehouden adem/niet
meer mogen heten
zou niets
menselijks mij vreemd zijn? hoop ik dat of
hoop ik dat niet
*
overvloed is er altijd/ook als het
geen overvloed is die iemand nodig schijnt te hebben
*
alles heeft mogelijk een naam maar
ik zou voor alles nieuwe kunnen verzinnen als ik wilde want
ik ben alleen op
dus groene waaiers rode parels blauw/sluier en ontsluier/gezond en ongezond
nacht met torenhoge belichting
ook universalia lijken vrijwillig/nu
vanessavleugels/ja graag
vleugels
nu
*
tuinen lijken menselijker dan
mensen/met alle kostuums
de speciale orde
*
niet te veel vrijheid of te weinig
spreken is zo menselijk het is of die
laan van sfinxen/talloze gezichten/loodzware betekenis geen
woord over mijn lippen/terwijl alle vormen/de bomen de huizen bloemen en ramen
en de gordijnen van de anderen en de kamers achter hen misschien de stille
stille kamers zijn
niemand is onschuldig maar sommigen zijn zuiver en velen
velen hebben immers vleugels
*
terwijl de kostuums
een deel van de droom zijn die een deel is van
de werkelijkheid/daarom is het ongeschminkte zo sfinxachtig/net als dingen zonder naam
*
de tuin wordt steeds zwaarder
steeds hangender/verzadigder/droger
te goeder naam bekend/moet dat sier zijn? Dat is
overvloed/overschot/versiering als versiering onvermijdelijk is/wat moet ik zeggen?
nachtschaduwen
nachtschaduwen
de tuin is stil voor de vruchten/de namen zullen
vannacht
varen
© Vertaling: 2010, Annelies van Hees
HAVEFORNEMMELSER
navnene står på skilte/væksten er høj og tung ihaven står alting med navn/mæt med tilbageholdt åndedræt
og rasler
hvad skal jeg sige i en have hvor alting har navn
ingenting?
*
stil et andet spørgsmål: hvad
kan jeg sige?
retfærdighed kræver forestillingskraft/kræver
pynt/overflod/digt/ikke
afsløring/så er sandhed det overflødige/der bare siger det der
er en gang til og intet andet
*
i en have hvor alting har navn er
ingenting muligt/men
har alting navn?/findes den have?
i en have hvor noget har navn og andet ikke er alt
muligt/alt muligt menneskeligt
i en sådan have
intet intet menneskeligt er den fremmed her er lige præcis
navndrukkent/navnløst
*
inden for hegnet/hvad kan man sige?
navnomspundet
*
jeg giver
knapper, frynser, skærme, blade, bolde og bælge navn for at
glædes endnu mere ved dem og høre dem rasle som de
knapper, frynser, skærme, blade, bolde, bælge
og bær
de er/og lade dem fordrive mit mismod
*
en have hvor jeg har kaldt alt ved rette navn
hvor jeg må give tingene navn/bare om natten om natten er
nok/det er pludselig frelse
her vil jeg stille min navntørst
*
her vil jeg være favnomspundet
*
hvor jeg har kaldt dét ved rette navn som skal
kaldes
og ladet resten stå
et ventende raslende sted/hvad venter det på? hvad venter det på?
at tale om ting som ikke hedder noget
endnu/som er så små/eller at tænke på ting så onde at de ikke
længere har noget navn/med tilbageholdt åndedræt/ikke
bør hedde noget længere
skulle intet
menneskeligt være mig fremmed? håber jeg dét eller
håber jeg det ikke
*
overflod er der altid/også når det
ikke er en overflod nogen synes at have brug for
*
alting har muligvis navn men
jeg kunne finde på nye til det hele hvis jeg ville for
jeg er alene oppe så
grønne vifter røde perler blå/slør og afslør/sund og usund
nat med tårnhøj belysning
også universaliteter føles frivillige/nu
nældens takvinge/nældens ja tak
vinge
nu
*
haver virker mere menneskelige end
mennesker/med alle kostumerne
den særlige orden
*
hverken for stor frihed eller for lille
at tale er så menneskeligt det er som den
allé af sfinxer/talløse ansigter/stentung betydning ikke et
ord over læberne/mens alle former/træerne husene blomster og vinduer
og de andres gardiner og stuerne bag dem måske er de stille
stille stuer
ingen er uskyldig men nogle er rene og mange
mange har jo vinger
*
mens kostumerne
er en del af drømmen som er en del af
virkeligheden/derfor er det usminkede så sfinxisk/ligesom ting uden navn
*
haven bliver tungere og tungere
mere og mere hængende/mæt/tør
navnomspundet/skulle det være pynt? det er
overflod/overskud/pynt hvis pynt er uundgåeligt/hvad kan jeg sige?
godnatskygger
godnatskygger
haven er stille før frugt/navnene skal sejle
i nat
© 2010, Ursula Andkjær Olsen
From: Have og helvede
Publisher: Gylendal, Copenhagen
From: Have og helvede
Publisher: Gylendal, Copenhagen
Poems
Poems of Ursula Andkjær Olsen
Close
GARDENSENSIBILITIES
the names are written on signs/the growth is tall and thick inthe garden everything finds its name/full with held breath
and rustling
what shall I say in a garden where everything has a name
nothing?
*
yet another question: what
can I say?
justice requires imagination/requires
ornament/profusion/poetry/not
exposure/thus truth becomes profusion/it merely states what is there
once more and nothing else
*
in a garden where everything has a name nothing
is possible/but
does everything have a name?/does that garden exist?
in a garden where some things have names and some do not everything is
possible/everything humanly possible
in such a garden
nothing nothing human is foreign to it here is precisely
namedrowning/nameless
*
inside the fence/what can I say?
nametangled
*
I give
buttons, fringes, umbels, leaves, bulbs, and pods their names to
enjoy them all the more and hear them rustle as the
buttons, fringes, umbels, leaves, bulbs, pods,
and berries
they are/and let them banish my dejection
*
a garden where I have called everything by its proper name
where I can give things their names/only at night at night is
enough/it is sudden salvation
here I will quench my namethirst
*
here I will rest armtangled
*
where I have called by its proper name/all that should be called
by name
and let the rest be
a waiting rustling place/what does it wait for? what does it wait for?
to speak of things that have no names
yet/which are so small/or to think of things so evil they no longer
have a name/with held breath/not
allowed to have a name anymore
should nothing
human be foreign to me? I hope so or else
I hope not
*
the profusion is always there/even when it is a
profusion that no one seems to need
*
everything may have a name but
I could come up with new ones for the lot if I wanted because
I am awake alone so
green fans red beads blue/veils and reveals/healthy and unhealthy
night with steeplehigh lightning
and even universal laws feel voluntary/now
small tortoiseshell/dwell in my tiny tortoise
shell
now
*
gardens seem more humane than
humans/with all their costumes
the special order
*
neither too much freedom nor too little
to speak is so human it is like the
avenue of sphinxes/speechless faces/stoneheavy meaning not one
word over the lips/while all forms/the trees the houses flowers and windows
and the neighbors’ curtains and the living rooms behind them maybe they are quiet
quiet living rooms
no one is innocent but some are pure and many
many do have wings
*
but the costumes
are part of the dream which is part of
reality/which is why the unadorned is sphinx-like/like a thing without a name
*
the garden grows thicker and thicker
more and more hanging/full/dry
nametangled/is all that just ornament? it is
profusion/excess/ornament if ornament is inevitable/what can I say?
goodnightshades
goodnightshades
the garden is quiet before fruiting/tonight the names set
sail
© 2010, Thom Saterlee
From: Have og helvede
Publisher: 2010, First published on PIW, Copenhagen
From: Have og helvede
Publisher: 2010, First published on PIW, Copenhagen
GARDENSENSIBILITIES
the names are written on signs/the growth is tall and thick inthe garden everything finds its name/full with held breath
and rustling
what shall I say in a garden where everything has a name
nothing?
*
yet another question: what
can I say?
justice requires imagination/requires
ornament/profusion/poetry/not
exposure/thus truth becomes profusion/it merely states what is there
once more and nothing else
*
in a garden where everything has a name nothing
is possible/but
does everything have a name?/does that garden exist?
in a garden where some things have names and some do not everything is
possible/everything humanly possible
in such a garden
nothing nothing human is foreign to it here is precisely
namedrowning/nameless
*
inside the fence/what can I say?
nametangled
*
I give
buttons, fringes, umbels, leaves, bulbs, and pods their names to
enjoy them all the more and hear them rustle as the
buttons, fringes, umbels, leaves, bulbs, pods,
and berries
they are/and let them banish my dejection
*
a garden where I have called everything by its proper name
where I can give things their names/only at night at night is
enough/it is sudden salvation
here I will quench my namethirst
*
here I will rest armtangled
*
where I have called by its proper name/all that should be called
by name
and let the rest be
a waiting rustling place/what does it wait for? what does it wait for?
to speak of things that have no names
yet/which are so small/or to think of things so evil they no longer
have a name/with held breath/not
allowed to have a name anymore
should nothing
human be foreign to me? I hope so or else
I hope not
*
the profusion is always there/even when it is a
profusion that no one seems to need
*
everything may have a name but
I could come up with new ones for the lot if I wanted because
I am awake alone so
green fans red beads blue/veils and reveals/healthy and unhealthy
night with steeplehigh lightning
and even universal laws feel voluntary/now
small tortoiseshell/dwell in my tiny tortoise
shell
now
*
gardens seem more humane than
humans/with all their costumes
the special order
*
neither too much freedom nor too little
to speak is so human it is like the
avenue of sphinxes/speechless faces/stoneheavy meaning not one
word over the lips/while all forms/the trees the houses flowers and windows
and the neighbors’ curtains and the living rooms behind them maybe they are quiet
quiet living rooms
no one is innocent but some are pure and many
many do have wings
*
but the costumes
are part of the dream which is part of
reality/which is why the unadorned is sphinx-like/like a thing without a name
*
the garden grows thicker and thicker
more and more hanging/full/dry
nametangled/is all that just ornament? it is
profusion/excess/ornament if ornament is inevitable/what can I say?
goodnightshades
goodnightshades
the garden is quiet before fruiting/tonight the names set
sail
© 2010, Thom Saterlee
Publisher: 2010, First published on PIW,
Publisher: 2010, First published on PIW,
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