Stuff Here we came in hot July, with the treasures of a whole life together shambled in boxes to be unwrapped and set out in new places: the ebon carving of Rama’s wife, Sita, each hair precisely cut, the puppets from Prague, heavy art deco goblets, a Sung fan discovered in South East Asia, a cherry-wood flute player. You were always eager to explore, and equally pleased to investigate auction rooms or an Oxfam shop. In a hardware store, you discovered elegance in a simple tool for shaving slivers of cheese. Even caches of paper clips and staplers hold your presence, and the screws, and Aruldite stored under the stairs you often used to mend the backs of chairs. Not to speak of the imac, in which your spirit still continues: nets of thought intensely lived. And most of all , in walnut drawers beneath the table by our bed where once you kept sleeping pills and indigestion tablets : your hearing aid, your spectacles, your teeth. | Materie Iata-ne in iulie cel fierbinte, cu ale noastre comori de-o viata inghesuite in cutii ce vor fi scoase si expuse in locuri noi: Portretul Sitei, sotia lui Rama, sculptat in abanos, Cu fiecare suvita taiata cu precizie, papusile din Praga, pocaluri decorative grele, un evantai Sung descoperit in Asia de Sud-Est, un flaut din lemn de cires. Mereu ai fost dornic sa explorezi, si, in acelasi timp, multumit daca te aflai intr-o casa de licitatie sau intr-un magazin Oxfam. Intr-o pravalie de obiecte de uz casnic ai descoperit eleganta unei unelte banale de taiat felii de branza. Pana si depozitele de agrafe si capsatoare musteau de prezenta ta, sau surubelnitele si adezivul inmagazinate sub scari si pe care ades le-ai folosit sa repari spatarele scaunelor. Ca sa nu mai zic de calculatorul iMac, in care spiritul tau inca salasluieste: retele de ganduri intens traite. Si, mai presus de toate, sertarele din lemn de nuc de sub masa de langa pat, unde iti tineai somniferele si pastilele pentru indigestie: proteza auditiva, ochelarii, dintii tai. George Cojocaru |
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...