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Simon Barraclough

Untitled Sunspot

  • 1 Los Alamos Mon Amour | Translations: itde
  • 2 Saturn on Seventh | Translations: itde
  • 3 We’ll Always Have CGI Paris | Translations: itde
  • 4 Jurassic Coast | Translations: itde
  • 5 SoBe It | Translations: itde
  • 6 Neptune | Translations: itde
  • 7 Sol | Translations: itde
  • 8 Untitled Sunspot | Translations: itde
  • 9 Photon | Translations: it
Language: english
Translations: italian (Una macchia solare), german (Sonnenflecken)
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Untitled Sunspot

The universe hurts.
But you knew that.

I pity you your brief lives:
over in the squint of an eye.
It’s a problem
but don’t overblink it.

Some  stars are shy:
the distant ones,
the clingy, binary ones,
the dense ones who try to swallow
their own tails of light
but lack the mass,
didn’t get the right start in life.

Step forward,
feel the warmth.

I’ll let you in on a secret.
Hell is just an oven pre-heating
for something really wicked
coming this way.

Turn around for your shadow.
What do you see?
Four legs, two legs, three?
How limpingly Oedipal you can be.

Ever want to be a star?
It’s a simple recipe—
most households have the ingredients.
Everyone has a shelfful of dead cells,
an old bag of gravity
trapped at the back of the pantry.
You just don’t have enough
of what it takes.

Is Jupiter a failed star
or an over-achieving planet?
You decide.
Put your spin on it.

Stars are the ‘Yes Men’ of the universe.
No negative capability.
Four billion years of saying “Yes”
and five billion years of “Yeses” yet to come.
I’d love to use up this core,
begin to mumble” Maybe” for a trillion years or more.

I pity you your brief lives.
Are you planning for your nebula?
The things you’ll leave behind.
Your inventory.
Memento mori

The universe hurts.
But you knew that.
—I’m starting to repeat myself,
my daddy was a pulsar—
Poor steadfast Keats knew it.

I spent a million years
making one perfect photon
to send to The Spanish Steps
the dawn they carried him down.
 
A star will never let you down
but a planet will break your heart.

I envy you your brief lives.

© Simon Barraclough
From: Sunspots
Penned in the Margins, 2015
Audio production: Literaturwerkstatt Berlin, 2014

Translations:

Language: italian

Una macchia solare

L'universo fa male.
Ma lo sapevate già.

Compatisco la vostra breve vita:
chiusa in un storcere d’occhio.
E 'un problema
ma non sbatteteci troppo le ciglia.

Alcune stelle sono timide:
quelle lontane,
quelle attaccate, le binarie,
quelle dense che cercano di ingoiare
le loro code di luce
ma mancano di massa,
non sono partite col piede giusto nella vita.

Fate un passo avanti,
sentite il calore.

Vi svelo un segreto.
L'inferno è solo un forno preriscaldato
per qualcosa di veramente perfido
che viene da questa parte.

Girate intorno alla vostra ombra.
cosa vedete?
Quattro gambe, due gambe, tre?
Come si può essere zoppicatamente edipici.

Mai voluto essere una stella?
È una ricetta semplice –
la maggior parte delle famiglie ha gli ingredienti.
Ognuno ha una libreria di cellule morte,
un vecchio sacco di gravità
incastrato in fondo alla dispensa.
È solo che non hanno abbastanza
di quello che ci vuole.

È Giove una stella mancata
o un pianeta carrierista?
Decidi tu.
Mettici la tua rivoluzione.

Le stelle sono gli 'Yes Men' dell'universo.
Nessuna capacità di negare.
Quattro miliardi di anni a dire "sì"
e cinque miliardi di anni di "sì" ancora a venire.
Mi piacerebbe utilizzare questo nucleo,
e borbottare "Forse" per almeno un trilione di anni.

Compatisco le vostre brevi vite.
Avete in programma una vostra nebulosa?
Le cose che lascerete dietro.
Il vostro inventario,
memento mori.

L'universo fa male.
Ma lo sapevate già
– sto iniziando a ripetermi,
mio papà era un pulsar –

Il povero costante Keats lo sapeva.
Ho passato un milione di anni
a fare un fotone perfetto
da inviare a Piazza di Spagna
l’alba che lo portarono giù.

Una stella non ti deluderà mai
ma un pianeta ti spezzerà il cuore.

Invidio le vostre brevi vite.

Traduzione di Luca Paci
Language: german

Sonnenflecken

Das Universum leidet.
Aber das wisst ihr.

Ich habe Mitleid mit euch, euren kurzen Leben:
Vorbei in einem Augenblick.
Es ist ein Problem,
aber schaut nicht zu genau.

Manche Sterne sind schüchtern;
die weit entfernten,
die anhänglichen binären,
die dichten, welche versuchen,
ihren eigenen Lichtschweife zu schlucken,
aber nicht genug Masse haben,
nicht den richtigen Start ins Leben hatten.

Tretet vor,
fühlt die Wärme.

Ich verrat euch ein Geheimnis.
Die Hölle ist nur ein Ofen, der vorwärmt
für etwas echt Verruchtes,
das auf uns zukommt.

Dreht euch nach eurem Schatten um.
Was seht ihr da?
 
Vier Beine, zwei Beine, drei?
Ihr könnt so linkisch ödipal sein.

Waertet ihr gern ein Stern gewesen?
Das Rezept ist simpel—
die meisten Haushalte haben die Zutaten.
Jeder hat ein Regal mit toten Zellen,
eine alte Tasche voll mit Schwerkraft
irgendwo an der Rückwand der Speisekammer.
Ihr habt nur nicht genug
von allem.

Ist Jupiter ein gescheiterter Stern
oder ein über-ehrgeiziger Planet?
Eure Entscheidung.
Gib dem Ganzen euren Twist

Sterne sind die Jasager des Universums.
Keine negative capability.
Vier Milliarden Jahre Ja-Sagen
und fünf Millionen Jahre voll mit „Jas“ noch vor uns.
Ich würde so gerne diesen Kern aufbrauchen,
für Billionen Jahre „Vielleicht“ murmeln  

Euer kurzes Leben tut mir leid.
Irgendwelche Pläne für eure Nebelflecken?
Euren Nachlass.
Euer Inventar.
Memento Mori

Das Universum leidet.
Aber das wusstet ihr.
--Ich beginne mich zu wiederholen
mein Papa war ein Pulsar –
Der gute alte Keats wusste es schon.

Eine Million Jahre lang
habe ich ein einziges perfektes Photon produziert
für die Spanische Treppe,
das Morgenlicht, in dem sie ihn hinab trugen.

Ein Stern lässt euch niemals im Stich
aber ein Planet bricht euch das Herz.
Ich beneide euch um eure kurzen Leben.

Übersetzt von Barbara Thimm
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Simon Barraclough

photo © Jamie Ryan
* 31.12.1966, Huddersfield, United Kingdom
lives in: London, United Kingdom

Simon Barraclough is a poet, writer, and tutor living in London but originally from Huddersfield in West Yorkshire. He is the author of the Forward Prize-finalist debut, Los Alamos Mon Amour (Salt, 2008), the limited edition 'boxed pamphlet', Bonjour Tetris (Penned in the Margins, 2010) and Neptune Blue (Salt, 2011).

He is also the editor of the collaborative Hitchcock-homage, Psycho Poetica (Sidekick Books, 2012) and co-author of The Debris Field (Sidekick Books, 2013). At the moment he is working on a full-length book and live event entitled Sunspots (due in 2015) and has been poet in residence at the Mullard Space Science Laboratory since January 2014.

 photo © Josh Redman
Publications
  • Los Alamos Mon Amour

    Poetry

    Norfolk: Salt Publishing, 2008

  • Bonjour Tetris

    Poetry

    London: Penned in the Margins, 2010

  • Neptune Blue (Salt,

    Poetry

    Norfolk: Salt Publishing, 2011

  • The Debris Field

    with Isobel Dixon and Chris McCabe

    London: Sidekick Books, 2013

  • Sunspots

    Poetry

    London: Penned in the Margins, 2015

Links
  • Simon Barraclough @ Poetry International Rotterdam

    Website

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