| 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. | Petruta Naidut – Gentiene de Bavaria Nu afli gentiene la oricine-n casa in septembrie cu ploi, in mohirata zi tarzie de Sf. Mihail. Gentiene de Bavaria, mari si intunecate, intunecand doar lumina zilei cu intunerecul lor precum facliile de fum albastru ale tristetii lui Pluto, brazdate de nervuri, lucesc albastru cu flacara lor intunecata, chircindu-se, la pamant suflate de lumina zilei. Flori ce ard intunerecul de fum albastru, naucitoare luciri plutonice de-un albastru adanc, faclii intunecate ce se mistuie in Dite, lucind albastru-ntunecat, raspandind negura, negura albastra, precum facliile palide ale Demetrei, lumina, apoi calauze sa-mi fiti, calea sa-mi aratati. Intindeti-mi o gentiana, dati-mi o faclie! Voi sa ma las calauzit de flacara albastra, desfacuta a cestei flori coborand scara tot mai intunecata, pana unde albastrul se intuneca de atata albastru chiar pana unde pleaca Perfesona-ndata din inghetat septembrie pe taramul nevazut unde negura se desteapta in intunerec iar Persefona insasi nu-i decat o voce ori o umbra nevazuta cuprinsa de adancul intunerec al bratelor lui Pluto, strapunsa de sageata tristetii grele printre splendide faclii ce ard intunecat, aruncand umbre asupra soatei pierdute si-a sotului sau |
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...