Dorothea Grünzweig

Ní thugann Vjell agus mé féin
na hainmneacha céanna ar aon ní beo.
‘Coill,’ adeirimse.  Deir seisean ‘wald’
Ar shneachta cáite tugann sé ‘schneesturm frühling’
Tá oiread difríochtaí téarmaíochta eadrainn
agus atá calóga sneachta inár dtimpeall.
Is maith linn imirt focal,
iad a chur ag spraoi.
An dtuigimid iad? An dtuigeann siad a chéile?
An bhfreagraíonn siad dá chéile?
Ní i gcónaí.  Gírle guairle focal.

Leanann, ar ball, imní.
Tá focail faoi ghlas istigh ionainn,
iad dorcha ina lár.
Ní chloisimid na focail againn féin.
Babhta den eolchaire.
Tost.

Seasaimid ar dhroichead os cionn abhann,
glún le glún,
guala le guala.
Ní gá focail anois.
Is faoiseamh san.

Sníonn an t-uisce ó thuaidh.
Muide bád béaldaite faoin droichead
í ag gluaiseacht, le sruth go muir.

Vjell has different words from mine different names
when I say woods he responds with korpi
lumituisku he counters for snowdrifts keväinen  
for spring
I could come up with as many examples
as there are snowflakes we love to play with words
they love to play with one another
but living with them also means circling
around questions like
Do we understand them correctly do they understand us
are they fond of one another do they pay attention
which is not always the case worrying
for worry’s sake about words
until instead of
keeping cool we fly off the handle
There are times when they remain sealed up
inside us no one
can hear himself speak
which makes us homesick for
our own words and for those of others
and the homesickness grows  
so much that we need to stay away from each other

Or else and here you see its beauty lies
leaning a long time against the bridge railing
joined at the shoulder head to head we feel   
the wordloss as freedom as relief

when the water shoots away beneath us we’re
a boat heading north downriver to the heaving sea
silent astern silent yet broadside cheering