Kim Yideum
BLUE BEARD’S LAST WIFE
My key is bleeding. My dictionary is also bleeding. My beard is bleeding and my bad teeth fell out for no reason. My voice got thicker, the wrinkle got thicker, and the rat’s tail in the desk drawer disappeared. Just like in the rumor, I wander around, spending equal amounts of time in the basement and above ground, fair and square.
One eye tears up. The other eyeball is dry as a bone. Both my legs are covered with hair, but just up to the knees. Half of my genitals have blood trickling out, the right side of my crotch has cum trickling down. This happens maybe once every hundred years.
Hahaha, just kidding. I was just rambling in a fantastical voice that is neither feminine nor masculine, neither alive nor dead, it is trendy to speak like that, you know. Yes, exactly, I am too lazy even to speak.
There, there. Stop sending me hair epilators and mousetraps. I don’t even know what to do with all these lice-ridden wigs. All these fruits, carved up and arranged. Enough trash. Stop lighting scented candles or incense beside my head. I’m gonna die. Really, I told you, no more lumps of flowers tied up in a bundle.
A dead rose once told me, You are so beautiful.
I am on the way home from playing with old people who are all bones. I do this and that, usually with one or two people a day, but other times, all the girls swarm in and I lose my mind. Did this area get zoned for a cemetery? It’s been a while since the electricity got cut off, and the pipes got clogged. I don’t even know what get your shit together means, but please, shut the fuck up, no more words of blessing, stop with the kind wishes, too.
We don’t have any more places to hang the bodies in the basement. We ran out of space to bury the bodies in the garden also. Some say I lure them here, but what can I do, when they voluntarily come here and take off their clothes? I have to be fair and square, treat them equally.
Give me something I don’t have. Such as pain, despair, or meaninglessness. Something I’ve never experienced, the kind of stuff that only makes sense in a dictionary. Please? Well then, give me a situation where I can use unbearably trite expressions, or someone to call jealous.
I wonder if someone saw me. I couldn’t even see myself.
But I am still beautiful.
DE LAATSTE VROUW VAN BLAUWBAARD
Het bloed stroomt uit mijn sleutel. Het bloed stroomt uit mijn woordenboek. Het bloed stroomt uit mijn baard en mijn rotte tanden vielen vanzelf uit. Mijn stem werd dieper, mijn rimpels werden dieper en de rattenstaart in mijn bureaula verdween. Ik zwerf rond zoals men zegt, een half jaar in de kelder en een half jaar bovengronds. Wel zo eerlijk.
Eén oog huilt. Het ander is kurkdroog. Mijn benen zijn extreem behaard, maar alleen tot aan de knieën. Uit de helft van mijn genitaliën druipt een lijntje bloed, langs de rechterkant van mijn kruis druppelt sperma. Dat gebeurt zo eens in de honderd jaar.
Hahaha, grapje. Ik mompel maar wat met dat denkbeeldige stemmetje van mij, vrouwelijk noch mannelijk, levend noch dood, want dat is in de mode tegenwoordig. Ja, je snapt me, ik heb gewoon geen zin om überhaupt iets te zeggen.
Ho eens even. Hou die epileerapparaten en die rattenvallen maar bij je. Wat moet ik beginnen met al deze pruiken die krioelen van de luizen? Al dit fruit, gesneden en geschikt. Aan afval geen tekort. Kom alsjeblieft niet aanzetten met geurkaarsen of wierook voor naast mijn bed. Dat wordt mijn dood. Echt, ik heb geen behoefte aan het zoveelste bosje bij elkaar geraapte bloemen.
Een dode roos zei ooit tegen me, Wat ben je mooi.
Ik heb spelletjes gespeeld met uitgemergelde bejaarden en loop naar huis. Ik doe allerlei dingen, normaal met een of twee mensen per dag, maar soms rennen alle meisjes tegelijk op me af en word ik gek. Moet deze buurt het veld ruimen voor een nieuwe begraafplaats? Elektriciteit is er al lang niet meer en de riolering zit verstopt. Ik weet niet wat jezelf bijeenrapen betekent, maar hou alsjeblieft je smoel en schei uit met je felicitaties en je zegenwensen.
Er is in de kelder geen ruimte meer om lijken aan de haak te hangen. In de tuin begraven past ook niet meer. Ze zeggen dat ik ze hiernaartoe lok, maar wat kan ik eraan doen als ze ongevraagd hierheen komen en zich uitkleden? Ik behandel iedereen gelijk, wel zo eerlijk.
Geef me iets dat ik niet heb. Iets als pijn, wanhoop of leegte. Iets dat ik nog nooit heb geproefd en dat je alleen met een woordenboek kunt uitleggen. Toe? Geef me anders een geval dat ik met onuitstaanbare clichés kan beschrijven of iemand die ik jaloers kan noemen.
Zou iemand me hebben gezien? Ik mezelf niet namelijk.
Maar mooi ben ik zeker.
푸른 수염의 마지막 여자
나의 열쇠는 피를 흘립니다 내 사전도 피를 흘립니다 내 수염도 피를 흘리고 저절로 충치가 빠졌습니다 내 목소리는 굵어지고 주름도 굵어지고 책상 서랍의 쥐꼬리는 사라졌습니다 소문대로 난 일 년의 절반 지하실과 지상을 공평하게 떠돕니다
나의 눈에서 물이 흐릅니다 한쪽 눈알은 말라빠졌습니다 두 다리의 무릎까지만 털이 수북합니다 음부의 반쪽에선 생리가 나오고 오른쪽 사타구니엔 정액이 흘러내립니다 백 년에 한 번 있는 일입니다만
하하하 농담 그냥 여자도 남자도 아니고 죽은 것도 산 것도 아니라는 말을 요즘 유행하는 환상적 어투로 지껄인 겁니다 말도 하기 귀찮다는 예 바로 그 말입죠
자자 내게 제모기와 쥐덫은 그만 보내시고요 이가 들끓는 가발도 처치곤란입니다 도려서 얹어놓은 과일들 이 모든 쓰레기는 충분해요 머리맡에 양초든 향이든 피우지 마세요 죽겠네 정말 꽃무더기 따위 묶어오지 말라니까요
죽은 장미가 그랬죠 너는 아름답구나
지금은 뼈만 남은 늙은이와 놀다 쉬는 참입니다 매일 한두 명과 그러고 그러지만 어떤 날은 여자애들이 한꺼번에 들이닥쳐 정신이 나갑니다 공동묘지로 허가 났나요 전기가 끊어지고 수도관이 막힌지도 한참 됐어요 하긴 정신차린다는 말의 뜻도 모르지만 제발 축언은 닥치고요 축복도 그만 좀 주세요
지하실엔 매달 공간이 없답니다 정원에도 파묻을 자리가 없구요 누군 나더러 불러들였다는데 제 발로 찾아와 발가벗는데 난들 별 수 있나요 공평하게 대할 수밖에
내게 없는 걸로 주세요 가령 고통이니 절망 허무랄까 뭐 한 번도 경험하지 못한 사전에만 있는 그 말의 뜻이 통하게요 안 될까요 그럼 견딜 수 없는 같이 흔해빠진 문구를 써먹을 수 있는 어쩌구 저쩌구 혹은 질투라는 단어에 적합한 대상을 보내주세요
누가 봤을까요 나도 못 봤는데
그러나 나는 아름다워요
BLUE BEARD’S LAST WIFE
My key is bleeding. My dictionary is also bleeding. My beard is bleeding and my bad teeth fell out for no reason. My voice got thicker, the wrinkle got thicker, and the rat’s tail in the desk drawer disappeared. Just like in the rumor, I wander around, spending equal amounts of time in the basement and above ground, fair and square.
One eye tears up. The other eyeball is dry as a bone. Both my legs are covered with hair, but just up to the knees. Half of my genitals have blood trickling out, the right side of my crotch has cum trickling down. This happens maybe once every hundred years.
Hahaha, just kidding. I was just rambling in a fantastical voice that is neither feminine nor masculine, neither alive nor dead, it is trendy to speak like that, you know. Yes, exactly, I am too lazy even to speak.
There, there. Stop sending me hair epilators and mousetraps. I don’t even know what to do with all these lice-ridden wigs. All these fruits, carved up and arranged. Enough trash. Stop lighting scented candles or incense beside my head. I’m gonna die. Really, I told you, no more lumps of flowers tied up in a bundle.
A dead rose once told me, You are so beautiful.
I am on the way home from playing with old people who are all bones. I do this and that, usually with one or two people a day, but other times, all the girls swarm in and I lose my mind. Did this area get zoned for a cemetery? It’s been a while since the electricity got cut off, and the pipes got clogged. I don’t even know what get your shit together means, but please, shut the fuck up, no more words of blessing, stop with the kind wishes, too.
We don’t have any more places to hang the bodies in the basement. We ran out of space to bury the bodies in the garden also. Some say I lure them here, but what can I do, when they voluntarily come here and take off their clothes? I have to be fair and square, treat them equally.
Give me something I don’t have. Such as pain, despair, or meaninglessness. Something I’ve never experienced, the kind of stuff that only makes sense in a dictionary. Please? Well then, give me a situation where I can use unbearably trite expressions, or someone to call jealous.
I wonder if someone saw me. I couldn’t even see myself.
But I am still beautiful.
BLUE BEARD’S LAST WIFE
My key is bleeding. My dictionary is also bleeding. My beard is bleeding and my bad teeth fell out for no reason. My voice got thicker, the wrinkle got thicker, and the rat’s tail in the desk drawer disappeared. Just like in the rumor, I wander around, spending equal amounts of time in the basement and above ground, fair and square.
One eye tears up. The other eyeball is dry as a bone. Both my legs are covered with hair, but just up to the knees. Half of my genitals have blood trickling out, the right side of my crotch has cum trickling down. This happens maybe once every hundred years.
Hahaha, just kidding. I was just rambling in a fantastical voice that is neither feminine nor masculine, neither alive nor dead, it is trendy to speak like that, you know. Yes, exactly, I am too lazy even to speak.
There, there. Stop sending me hair epilators and mousetraps. I don’t even know what to do with all these lice-ridden wigs. All these fruits, carved up and arranged. Enough trash. Stop lighting scented candles or incense beside my head. I’m gonna die. Really, I told you, no more lumps of flowers tied up in a bundle.
A dead rose once told me, You are so beautiful.
I am on the way home from playing with old people who are all bones. I do this and that, usually with one or two people a day, but other times, all the girls swarm in and I lose my mind. Did this area get zoned for a cemetery? It’s been a while since the electricity got cut off, and the pipes got clogged. I don’t even know what get your shit together means, but please, shut the fuck up, no more words of blessing, stop with the kind wishes, too.
We don’t have any more places to hang the bodies in the basement. We ran out of space to bury the bodies in the garden also. Some say I lure them here, but what can I do, when they voluntarily come here and take off their clothes? I have to be fair and square, treat them equally.
Give me something I don’t have. Such as pain, despair, or meaninglessness. Something I’ve never experienced, the kind of stuff that only makes sense in a dictionary. Please? Well then, give me a situation where I can use unbearably trite expressions, or someone to call jealous.
I wonder if someone saw me. I couldn’t even see myself.
But I am still beautiful.
Sponsors
