Poem

Doina Ioanid

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20. What is it all these women want from me

What is it all these women want from me, with their kangaroo pouches barely disguised by calico aprons, hair redolent with moist things, why do they call me to join them, enticing me with their crippled lives, and why are their stories clinging to me like hot oil, when all I want is that they just leave me alone to go on with my journey?

© Translation: 2011, Florin Bican
Publisher: First published on PIW, , 2011

20. What is it all these women want from me

Wat willen ze van me, al die vrouwen met hun nauwelijks door bloemetjesschorten verholen kangoeroebuiken en hun door klamme geuren doordrenkte haar, waarom roepen ze dat ik bij hen moet komen, waarom lokken ze mij met hun verminkte levens en blijven hun verhalen aan mij plakken als hete olie, terwijl ik niet anders wil dan dat ze mij met rust laten en mij mijn gang laten gaan?

© Vertaling: 2011, Jan H. Mysjkin
Publisher: 2011, First published on PIW,

Ce vor toate aceste femei de la mine, cu burţile lor de cangur abia mascate de şorţurile înflorate, cu părul lor îmbibat de mirosuri jilave, de ce mă cheamă să vin alături de ele, ademenindu-mă cu vieţile lor schiloade şi de ce poveştile lor se lipesc de mine ca uleiul încins, cînd eu nu vreau decît să-mi dea pace, să-mi văd de drum?

© 2003, Doina Ioanid
From: Cartea burților și a singurătății
Publisher: Editura Pontica, Constanța

Doina Ioanid

Doina Ioanid

(Romania, 1968)

“Prose poems are, to me, the most adequate form of expression. That’s how I can tell stories about myself, about the others – be they familiar or simply anonymous – because each and every one is akin to a living chronicle, if I may say so. A simple story, sketched with utmost naïveté, can perfectly capture the poetry of the world we live in.”

Born 24 December 1968, in Bucharest, Doina Ioani...

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Poems of Doina Ioanid

07. This sadness is not mine

13. Lay your hand on my forehead

02. Every so often my kitchen becomes a stage

08. Granddad used to tell us how

18. I used to live in Africa way back

03. I’m coming over, Grandma

11. She was reeking of booze from afar

21. A foggy winter

06. ’Twas only now, in her old age

12. My upstairs neighbour’s cough

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20. What is it all these women want from me

What is it all these women want from me, with their kangaroo pouches barely disguised by calico aprons, hair redolent with moist things, why do they call me to join them, enticing me with their crippled lives, and why are their stories clinging to me like hot oil, when all I want is that they just leave me alone to go on with my journey?

© 2011, Florin Bican
From: Cartea burților și a singurătății
Publisher: 2011, First published on PIW, Constanța

20. What is it all these women want from me

What is it all these women want from me, with their kangaroo pouches barely disguised by calico aprons, hair redolent with moist things, why do they call me to join them, enticing me with their crippled lives, and why are their stories clinging to me like hot oil, when all I want is that they just leave me alone to go on with my journey?

© 2011, Florin Bican
Publisher: 2011, First published on PIW,

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