| D. H. Lawrence – Bavarian Gentians Not every man has gentians in his house in soft September, at slow, sad Michaelmas. Bavarian gentians, big and dark, only dark darkening the daytime, torch-like, with the smoking blueness of Pluto’s gloom, ribbed and torch-like, with their blaze of darkness spread blue down flattening into points, flattened under the sweep of white day torch-flower of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto’s dark-blue daze, black lamps from the halls of Dis, burning dark blue, giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter’s pale lamps give off light, lead me then, lead the way. Reach me a gentian, give me a torch! let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of this flower down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness even where Persephone goes, just now, from the frosted September to the sightless realm where darkness is awake upon the dark and Persephone herself is but a voice or a darkness invisible enfolded in the deeper dark of the arms Plutonic, and pierced with the passion of dense gloom, among the splendor of torches of darkness, shedding darkness on the lost bride and her groom. | Ileana Botescu-Sireteanu – Gentiane bavareze Nu toti oamenii au gentiane in casa In blanda luna a lui septembrie, de ziua trista si molcoma a Arhanghelului Mihail. Gentiane bavareze, mari si intunecate, doar intunecate Intunecand lumina zilei, ca niste torte, cu albastreala fumurie a intunecimii Lui Pluto, Cu nervuri si asemeni unor torte, cu valvataia lor de intuneric rasfranta albastru Netezindu-se in puncte, turtite sub intinderea zilei dalbe Flori-torta ale intunecimii albastre-fumurii, roca albastru-inchis a lui Pluto Lampadarele negre de pe coridoarele lui Dis, arzand albastru-inchis, Rasfrangand intuneric, intuneric albastru, in timp ce lampadarele palide ale Demetrei rasfrang lumina Condu-ma atunci, arata-mi drumul. Da-mi o gentiana, da-mi o torta! Lasa-ma sa ma ghidez singur cu torta ramificata si albastra a acestei flori In josul scarilor din ce in ce mai intunecate unde albastrul e intunecat pe albastru Chiar si unde merge Persefona, chiar acum, din inghetatul septembrie Spre taramul orb unde intunericul e treaz asupra intunericului Si Persefona insasi e doar un glas Ori o intunecime invizibila invelita in intunericul si mai adanc Al bratelor lui Pluto, si strapunsa de pasiunea intunecimii dense, In splendoarea tortelor intunericului, revarsand intuneric Asupra miresei pierdute si asupra mirelui ei. |
TRANSLATION CAFÉ 2008, Nr. 23/January 15, 2008, Anny Ballardini, Translations from: Anny Ballardini – Someone else by Gabriela Moldovan – Altcineva
Anny Ballardini - Someone elseI woke up this morningand they had stolen my carmy house my bed my eyesmy mind my family my fatemy job my friendsleft there on the scorching groundI went downtown and got a plastic hearta couple of colored marbles for my...