imagini magnetice
publicul este rugat să închidă ochii:
abia acum roșul zmeurei devine mai puternic
în seara aceasta de iunie cu trecători
pe balustrada rotitoare,
o picătură de cerneală, una de sânge,
un semafor roșu aprins, roșu bordo.
Youhualli s-a născut într-o noapte de mai,
când măturătoarele din Harkov
strecurau în buzunarele cerșetorilor
cireșe galbene.
noi scriam mesaje pe coji de portocale
și așteptam ultimul tren în stația lungă,
amores y desamores.
Dumnezeu se auzea dintr-o rugăciune
spusă deasupra ursulețului de pluș,
căruia soldatul îi scoate glonțul și-l păstrează
până la întoarcerea acasă,
între ploaia din pădurea de cedri și muzica lui Gillespie,
unde începe numărătoarea inversă,
lumina de rezervă.
magnetic images
the audience is asked to close the eyes:
only now becomes the raspberry red stronger
on this june evening with passers-by
on a revolving handrail,
an ink drop, one of blood,
a bright red traffic light, burgundy red.
Youhualli was born on a may night,
when the street sweepers in Harkiv
were slipping in the pockets of the beggars
yellow cherries.
we were writing messages on orange peels
and were waiting for the last train in the long station,
amores y desamores.
God was heard in a prayer
told above the teddy bear,
whose bullet the soldier takes out and keeps
until returning home,
between the rain in the cedar forest and Gillespie’s music,
where the countdown starts,
the backup light.
μαγνητικές εικόνες
το κοινό παρακαλείται να κλείσει τα μάτια:
μόλις τώρα το κόκκινο του σμέουρου γίνεται πιο έντονο
τούτο το βράδυ του Ιουνίου με περαστικούς
στο περιστρεφόμενο κιγκλίδωμα,
μια σταγόνα μελάνι, μια σταγόνα αίμα,
ένα αναμμένο κόκκινο φανάρι, βαθύ μπορντό.
Ο Youhualli γεννήθηκε μια νύχτα του Μαΐου,
όταν οι οδοκαθαρίστριες του Χαρκόβου
γλιστρούσαν στις τσέπες των ζητιάνων
κίτρινα κεράσια.
εμείς γράφαμε μηνύματα πάνω σε φλούδες πορτοκαλιού
και περιμέναμε το τελευταίο τρένο στον μακρύ σταθμό,
amores y desamores.
Ο Θεός ακουγόταν μέσα από μια προσευχή
ειπωμένη πάνω από το λούτρινο αρκουδάκι,
από το οποίο ο στρατιώτης βγάζει τη σφαίρα και την κρατά
ως την επιστροφή στο σπίτι,
ανάμεσα στη βροχή στο δάσος των κέδρων και τη μουσική του Gillespie,
εκεί όπου αρχίζει η αντίστροφη μέτρηση,
το εφεδρικό φως.
Μετάφραση στα ελληνικά από την Άντζελα Μπράτσου