Belarusian I
even our mothers have no idea how we were born
how we parted their legs and crawled out into the world
the way you crawl from the ruins after a bombing
we couldn't tell which of us was a girl or a boy
we gorged on dirt thinking it was bread
and our future
a gymnast on a thin thread of the horizon
was performing there
at the highest pitch
bitch
we grew up in a country where
first your door is stroked with chalk
then at dark a chariot arrives
and no one sees you anymore
but riding in those cars were neither
armed men nor
a wanderer with a scythe
this is how love loved to visit us
and snatch us veiled
completely free only in public toilets
where for a little change nobody cared what we were doing
we fought the summer heat the winter snow
when we discovered we ourselves were the language
and our tongues were removed we started talking with our eyes
when our eyes were poked out we talked with our hands
when our hands were cut off we conversed with our toes
when we were shot in the legs we nodded our heads for yes
and shook our heads for no and when they ate our heads alive
we crawled back into the bellies of our sleeping mothers
as if into bomb shelters
to be born again
and there on the horizon the gymnast of our future
was leaping through the fiery hoop
of the sun
***
Hi Friends,
I
was so blown away by today's poem from the official poem-a-day email of
the Academy of American Poets that I just couldn't stop myself from
sharing it with you right away (even if it does throw off my poem-a-day
schedule for the month).
"Belarusian I" is written by Valzhyna Mort, a 26-year-old poet of the anti-communist revolutions in Eastern
Europe. Born and raised in Minsk, Belarus, Valzhyna Mort writes in
traditional Belarusian (a backlash to Soviet attempts to extinguish the
language and replace it with Russian). Although I've never had the
privilege of hearing her myself, she is known for her extraordinary
performance readings of her work in both Belarusian and English.
In
her most recent translation project, Mort collaborated with the
wife-husband pair Elizabeth Oehlkers Wright (accomplished German
translator) and Franz Wright (Pulitzer Prize-winning poet). Just
released by Copper Canyon Press, Factory of Tears (2008) is the first bilingual Belarusian-English book of poetry ever published in the United States.
Adding to list of things to do before I die: meet Valzhyna Mort.
As always, enjoy.
Ellen
Labels: Dickinson, NPM, translation