Poem
Daniel Bănulescu
AS OF TOMORROW WE’RE GOING STRAIGHT BACK TO THE TREE AND MEETING UP THERE
I have lived a short lifeNo time to fulfil all the good I had promised mankind
Put my feet up on the table in front – yes
Put my feet up with a bang on the table in front – yes
Offend and run wild and then start all over again – yes yes yes
I’ve been messing up things on a regular basis
No sooner had I found a good chance to mess up than I’d mess it all up
No sooner had the opportunity to get off scot-free presented itself than I’d miss it
My madness did come within reach of God’s very temple –
I would have gladly made myself a harmonica
Out of all the vaginas of the women I’d ever been with
But I’m not dirty
“O if only I had a harmonica
If only the rain had sufficed and I had my harmonica
I’d be just sitting down on my bum playing it
I’d perch on the kerb and play my harmonica”
Everything is just fine as long as you’ve got someone to clear the tables for you
Everything is just charming and sweet and like powder applied to the nose
When her nose does not shine through the powder in question
My wallet does not double as your wallet
All the same we could still share a moment of joy
And when my leg brushes against yours under the table
It will be like my tongue caressing your brains
A peculiar sound born out of their union
I used to be miserable and you rubbed baking soda into my misery
Pissed was I and ill-fated and pissed
And all set on just doing myself in
And you gave me an enema
Blood earns you nothing at all
Getting up every morning at five and going to work is what earns you all things
Wrestling with me in a cubicle is what earns you all things
Above the Kivu brothers’ restaurant as I’m crooning to you:
“O if only I had a harmonica
If only you were part of a harmonica and you were my harmonica
I would go in for playing harmonica hand over fist
Go away someplace quiet I would and play my harmonica there”
And now you are coming to me and confessing you’ve run out of dosh
How come you have run out of dosh? Is this then a reason for you to cease showing
respect?
Have you ever known someone to live from their loving alone?
I am the only one who’s ever done such a thing
The only one who’s been waiting for you
Erect and unshaven and angry
And heavily vascularized
One day I will make it to the restaurant next door
I will sit up plant myself on my knees and make it somehow to the restaurant next door
Your maniac lips will be scooping all the contents out of me
I’ll be dancing my way to your liver penetrate all the way to your gall bladder
A vast peace-dance I’ll make out of you
Sqeezing your frame from within holding you tightly and singing:
“O if only I had a harmonica
If you were but a tiny harmonica and you were my harmonica
I’d be mad keen on playing the harmonica
I’d be playing my harmonica to distraction I would”
© Translation: 2013, Florin Bican
VANAF MORGEN ONTMOETEN WE ELKAAR DIRECT IN DE BOOM
Ik heb weinig geleefdIk had geen tijd om de mensheid het beloofde goed te brengen
Mijn voeten op de tafel voor me leggen – ja
Mijn voeten opheffen en op de tafel voor me laten neerploffen – ja
Een ander krenken me opwinden en van voren af aan beginnen – ja ja ja
Ik heb alles verknald
Was er een goede aanleiding om iets te verknallen dan verknalde ik het
Deed zich een kans voor om me te redden dan verspeelde ik ze
Met mijn waanzin raakte ik heel dicht bij de slaap van de Heer –
Ik had graag een mondharmonica geknutseld
Uit de geslachten van alle vrouwen die ik heb gekend
Maar ik ben geen viezerik
‘Ach had ik maar een mondharmonica
Ach had het maar genoeg geregend en had ik mijn mondharmonica
Dan ging ik op mijn kont zitten en mondharmonica spelen
Ging ik op de stoeprand zitten en op mijn mondharmonica spelen’
Alles is mooi wanneer iemand ook voor jou de tafel afruimt
Alles is betoverend en zacht en als neuspoeder
Wanneer haar neus niet blinkt onder het talkpoeder
Mijn portemonnee is niet ook jouw portemonnee
Maar we konden ons nog wat gezamenlijk verheugen
En wanneer mijn voet je onder de tafel beroert
Zal het zijn alsof mijn tong je hersenen liefkoost
En samen zouden ze een vreemde klank afgeven
Ik was ongelukkig en je hebt me met bicarbonaat ingewreven
Ik was aangeschoten en verdrietig en aangeschoten
En ik wilde me met alle geweld ombrengen
En je hebt me een lavement toegediend
Je bereikt niets met bloed
Je bereikt alles wanneer je om 5 uur ’s morgens opstaat en naar je werk gaat
Je bereikt alles wanneer je met me komt ravotten in het kamertje
Boven het restaurant van de gebroeders Kivu en neuriet van:
‘Ach had ik maar een mondharmonica
Was je maar een deel van een mondharmonica ja mijn mondharmonica
Dan had ik me serieus toegelegd op het spelen van mondharmonica
Dan had ik me in een hoekje teruggetrokken en op mijn mondharmonica gespeeld’
En nu kom je naar me toe om te zeggen dat je geen geld meer hebt
Zo waarom heb je geen geld meer? Waarom zou je me niet langer mooie gevoelens toedragen?
Heb je ooit iemand gezien die alleen van zijn liefde leeft?
Alleen mij heb je gekend
Alleen ik heb op je gewacht
Volhardend en ongeschoren en woest
En krachtig doorbloed
Ooit geraak ik wel eens tot het restaurant hiernaast
Ik zal me rechtop hijsen me op mijn knieën laten glijden en tot het restaurant hiernaast geraken
Je waanzinnige lippen zullen mijn hele inhoud uit me halen
Ik zal in je lever dansen tot in je gal doordringen
Ik zal uit jou een grote rondedans voor de vrede maken
En van binnenuit op je drukken je omarmen en zingen:
‘Ach had ik maar een mondharmonica
Was je toch maar een arme mondharmonica ja mijn mondharmonica
Als een bezetene zou ik op de mondharmonica spelen
Zou ik hondsdol op mijn mondharmonica spelen’
© Vertaling: 2013,
DE MÂINE NE VOM ÎNTÂLNI DIRECT ÎN COPAC
Am trăit puţinN-am avut timp să aduc binele promis omenirii
Să ridic picioarele pe masa din faţă – da
Să ridic şi să-mi trântesc picioarele pe masa din faţă – da
Să jignesc să m-agit şi s-o iau de la capăt – da da da
Am ratat totul
Cum am găsit un prilej bun de ratat l-am ratat
Cum am dat peste o ocazie din care să mă fi salvat am pierdut-o
Am ajuns cu nebunia mea aproape de tâmpla lui Dumnezeu –
Mi-aş fi construit o muzicuţă
Din sexele tuturor femeilor pe care le-am cunoscut
Însă nu sunt scârbos
„O dacă aş avea o muzicuţă
O dacă ar fi plouat suficient şi aş avea muzicuţa mea
Aş sta în şezut şi aş cânta la muzicuţă
M-aş aşeza pe bordură şi aş cânta la muzicuţa mea”
Totul e frumos când cineva strânge mesele şi pentru tine
Totul e încântător şi dulce şi ca o pudră pe nas
Când nasul ei nu străluceşte sub pudră
Portmoneul meu nu este şi portmoneul tău
Dar ne-am mai putea bucura împreună
Iar piciorul meu când te va atinge sub masă
Va fi ca şi când limba mea ţi-ar mângâia creierii
Şi-ar scoate laolaltă un sunet ciudat
Am fost nefericit şi mi-ai dat cu bicarbonat
Am fost pilit şi nenorocit şi pilit
Şi ţineam cu tot dinadinsul să mă sinucid
Şi mi-ai făcut purgaţie
Nimic nu se câştigă cu sânge
Totul se câştigă trezindu-te la 5 dimineaţa şi ducându-te la serviciu
Totul se câştigă luându-te la trântă cu mine într-o cămăruţă
Deasupra restaurantului fraţilor Kivu şi fredonându-ţi:
„O dacă aş avea muzicuţă
Dacă tu ai face parte dintr-o muzicuţă şi ai fi muzicuţa mea
M-aş pune serios pe cântat la muzicuţă
M-aş retrage-ntr-un loc şi aş cânta la muzicuţa mea”
Şi acum tu vii la mine să-mi mărturiseşti că nu mai ai bani
Păi de ce să nu mai ai bani? Pentru ce să încetezi să-mi mai porţi sentimente frumoase?
Ai văzut tu pe cineva să trăiască numai din dragostea sa?
Numai pe mine m-ai văzut
Numai eu te-am aşteptat
Temeinic şi nebărbierit şi furios
Şi puternic vascularizat
Cândva am să ajung până la restaurantul vecin
Am să mă ridic în şezut am să mă potrivesc pe genunchi şi am să ajung la restaurantul vecin
Buzele tale ţicnite au să scoată tot conţinutul din mine
Am să-ţi dansez în ficat am să-ţi pătrund până-n bilă
Am să fac din tine o mare horă a păcii
Apăsându-te pe dinăuntru îmbrăţişându-te şi cântând:
„O dacă aş avea o muzicuţă
Dacă tu ai fi o biată muzicuţă şi ai fi muzicuţa mea
M-aş înnebuni după cântat la muzicuţă
Aş fi turbat după cântat la muzicuţa mea”
© 2010, Daniel Bănulescu
From: Ce bine e sa fii Daniel Banulescu
Publisher: Editura Cartea Românească, Bucharest
From: Ce bine e sa fii Daniel Banulescu
Publisher: Editura Cartea Românească, Bucharest
Poems
Poems of Daniel Bănulescu
Close
AS OF TOMORROW WE’RE GOING STRAIGHT BACK TO THE TREE AND MEETING UP THERE
I have lived a short lifeNo time to fulfil all the good I had promised mankind
Put my feet up on the table in front – yes
Put my feet up with a bang on the table in front – yes
Offend and run wild and then start all over again – yes yes yes
I’ve been messing up things on a regular basis
No sooner had I found a good chance to mess up than I’d mess it all up
No sooner had the opportunity to get off scot-free presented itself than I’d miss it
My madness did come within reach of God’s very temple –
I would have gladly made myself a harmonica
Out of all the vaginas of the women I’d ever been with
But I’m not dirty
“O if only I had a harmonica
If only the rain had sufficed and I had my harmonica
I’d be just sitting down on my bum playing it
I’d perch on the kerb and play my harmonica”
Everything is just fine as long as you’ve got someone to clear the tables for you
Everything is just charming and sweet and like powder applied to the nose
When her nose does not shine through the powder in question
My wallet does not double as your wallet
All the same we could still share a moment of joy
And when my leg brushes against yours under the table
It will be like my tongue caressing your brains
A peculiar sound born out of their union
I used to be miserable and you rubbed baking soda into my misery
Pissed was I and ill-fated and pissed
And all set on just doing myself in
And you gave me an enema
Blood earns you nothing at all
Getting up every morning at five and going to work is what earns you all things
Wrestling with me in a cubicle is what earns you all things
Above the Kivu brothers’ restaurant as I’m crooning to you:
“O if only I had a harmonica
If only you were part of a harmonica and you were my harmonica
I would go in for playing harmonica hand over fist
Go away someplace quiet I would and play my harmonica there”
And now you are coming to me and confessing you’ve run out of dosh
How come you have run out of dosh? Is this then a reason for you to cease showing
respect?
Have you ever known someone to live from their loving alone?
I am the only one who’s ever done such a thing
The only one who’s been waiting for you
Erect and unshaven and angry
And heavily vascularized
One day I will make it to the restaurant next door
I will sit up plant myself on my knees and make it somehow to the restaurant next door
Your maniac lips will be scooping all the contents out of me
I’ll be dancing my way to your liver penetrate all the way to your gall bladder
A vast peace-dance I’ll make out of you
Sqeezing your frame from within holding you tightly and singing:
“O if only I had a harmonica
If you were but a tiny harmonica and you were my harmonica
I’d be mad keen on playing the harmonica
I’d be playing my harmonica to distraction I would”
© 2013, Florin Bican
From: Ce bine e sa fii Daniel Banulescu
From: Ce bine e sa fii Daniel Banulescu
AS OF TOMORROW WE’RE GOING STRAIGHT BACK TO THE TREE AND MEETING UP THERE
I have lived a short lifeNo time to fulfil all the good I had promised mankind
Put my feet up on the table in front – yes
Put my feet up with a bang on the table in front – yes
Offend and run wild and then start all over again – yes yes yes
I’ve been messing up things on a regular basis
No sooner had I found a good chance to mess up than I’d mess it all up
No sooner had the opportunity to get off scot-free presented itself than I’d miss it
My madness did come within reach of God’s very temple –
I would have gladly made myself a harmonica
Out of all the vaginas of the women I’d ever been with
But I’m not dirty
“O if only I had a harmonica
If only the rain had sufficed and I had my harmonica
I’d be just sitting down on my bum playing it
I’d perch on the kerb and play my harmonica”
Everything is just fine as long as you’ve got someone to clear the tables for you
Everything is just charming and sweet and like powder applied to the nose
When her nose does not shine through the powder in question
My wallet does not double as your wallet
All the same we could still share a moment of joy
And when my leg brushes against yours under the table
It will be like my tongue caressing your brains
A peculiar sound born out of their union
I used to be miserable and you rubbed baking soda into my misery
Pissed was I and ill-fated and pissed
And all set on just doing myself in
And you gave me an enema
Blood earns you nothing at all
Getting up every morning at five and going to work is what earns you all things
Wrestling with me in a cubicle is what earns you all things
Above the Kivu brothers’ restaurant as I’m crooning to you:
“O if only I had a harmonica
If only you were part of a harmonica and you were my harmonica
I would go in for playing harmonica hand over fist
Go away someplace quiet I would and play my harmonica there”
And now you are coming to me and confessing you’ve run out of dosh
How come you have run out of dosh? Is this then a reason for you to cease showing
respect?
Have you ever known someone to live from their loving alone?
I am the only one who’s ever done such a thing
The only one who’s been waiting for you
Erect and unshaven and angry
And heavily vascularized
One day I will make it to the restaurant next door
I will sit up plant myself on my knees and make it somehow to the restaurant next door
Your maniac lips will be scooping all the contents out of me
I’ll be dancing my way to your liver penetrate all the way to your gall bladder
A vast peace-dance I’ll make out of you
Sqeezing your frame from within holding you tightly and singing:
“O if only I had a harmonica
If you were but a tiny harmonica and you were my harmonica
I’d be mad keen on playing the harmonica
I’d be playing my harmonica to distraction I would”
© 2013, Florin Bican
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