TRANSLATION CAFÉ, Nr. 19/November 15, 2007 |Translations from: Elaine Feinstein: Poems for Arnold by George Cojocaru

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Elaine Feinstein: Poems for Arnold

A visit

I still remember love like another country
with an almost forgotten landscape
of salty skin and a dry mouth. I think
there was always a temptation to escape
from the violence of that sun, the sudden
insignificance of ambition,
the prowl of jealousy like a witch’s cat .

Last night I was sailing in my sleep
like an old seafarer, with scurvy
colouring my thoughts, there was moonlight
and ice on green waters.
Hallucinations. Dangerous nostalgia.
And early this morning you whispered
as if you were lying softly at my side:

Are you still angry with me? And spoke my
name with so much tenderness, I cried.
I never reproached you much
that I remember, not even when I should;
to me, you were the boy in Ravel’s garden
who always longed to be good,
as the forest creatures knew, and so do I.   
Elaine Feinstein: Poeme pentru Arnold


Imi amintesc de dragoste ca de un alt tinut,
cu un peisaj aproape uitat
cu piele sarata si gura uscata.
Cred ca mereu a existat o ispita
de a scapa de violenta acelui soare,
de neprevazuta lipsa de ambitie,
de gelozia care pandeste precum pisica unei vrajitoare.

Noaptea trecuta navigam in somn
asemenea unui batran marinar,
razele lunii si apele verzi de gheata
imi luminau in mod pervers gandurile.
Halucinatii. Nostalgie periculoasa.
Iar in aceasta dimineata mi-ai soptit
Ca si cum ai fi fost langa mine:

Mai esti suparata pe mine? Si mi-ai spus pe nume
cu gingasie, si-am plans
Nu te-am mustrat niciodata, nici chiar
atunci cand ar fi trebuit;
pentru mine erai baiatul din gradina lui Ravel
ce voia mereusa fie cuminte,
asa cum il stiau fiintele padurii, asa cum il stiam si eu.
 George Cojocaru

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