Veno Taufer 
Translator

on Lyrikline: 5 poems translated

from: esloveno to: inglés

Original

Translation

SARAJEVO

esloveno | Veno Taufer

v knjižnici že dva tisoč let knjige načrti
v plamenih liste odnaša iz spomina veter
črke in strani zleplja kri v otrplih prstih

drhte peresa ko se prisluškujočim oglašajo sfere
le še s komentarji se upirajo smrti
stoletje drveč za strelom v srce od odmeva zadeto v sarajevu

tone z eno tistih ladij s seznama v spevu
prvine razpadajo voda mezi v kužno sparino
plameni kamnijo v pepel in mraz

kamen prhni v prah blato ga golta v globino
scefran zrak vsesavajo ostudne ustnice špranj
na krajih kjer so rasla drevesa jok je ponižan v slino

stoletje drveč za strelom v srce od odmeva zadeto v sarajevu
tone z eno tistih ladij s seznama v spevu
oslepljeni v razstrelitvi letnih časov preživeli pisarji

brskajo za okruški črk in cunjami pergamentov
zapisali bodo kratko kar so že stari
ponavljali v strašni skrivnosti fragmentov

za preživetje beseda se s smrtnim mesom spari
stoletje drveč za strelom v srce od odmeva zadeto v sarajevu
tone z eno tistih ladij s seznama v spevu

                                               november 1993

© Veno Taufer
from: Še ode
Ljubljana: Cankarjeva založba,
Audio production: Študentska založba / Beletrina

SARAJEVO

inglés

two thousand years in the library books maps
in flames the wind carries leaves away from memory
blood sticks letters and pages in stiff fingers

pens tremble as the sound of the spheres reaches the listening
who have only commentaries to resist death
the age pursuing the shot to the heart struck by the echo in sarajevo

sinks with one of those ships in that list in the poem
the elements crumble water disperses into noxious vapours
flames petrify to ash and cold

stone rots to dust swallowed by mud in the depths
the disgusting lips of cracks suck the shredded air
where trees grew the wailing is degraded to drooling

the age pursuing the shot to the heart struck by the echo in sarajevo
sinks with one of those ships in that list in the poem
surviving scribes blinded by the seasons' explosion

scrabble for shards of letters and scraps of parchment
to write down in brief what the ancients already
repeated in the terrible mystery of their fragments

the word couples with mortal flesh to survive
the age pursuing the shot to the heart struck by the echo in sarajevo
sinks with one of those ships in that list in the poem


                                           November 1993

Translated by Michael Scammell & author

MORJE LISTA VAL ZA VALOM

esloveno | Veno Taufer

morje lista val za valom
šum čez kamne potem pene in nič
spomin je ki na breg nalaga vonj in vlago

val za valom listi knjige
med njimi alge vrči pesek kak mrlič
kdo jo lista jo sploh še piše

ne galeb ne ladja ne plavalec
nihče ki se obrača skoz ta blišč
ne ve je le črka pega znak ne bralec

je morda na nekem svetu že prebrana
in ta mrzli val ni več niti prhek list
je knjiga odvržena že razcefrana

ali pa je vsaka zgodba iz nje prepisovana
ker se godí a listanje je hipen švist

© Veno Taufer
from: Še ode
Ljubljana : Cankarjeva založba,
Audio production: Študentska založba / Beletrina

THE SEA IS LEAFING THROUGH WAVE AFTER WAVE

inglés

the sea is leafing through wave after wave
a ripple of sound over stones then foam and nothing
a memory heaping moisture and scent on the shore

wave after wave the leaves of the book
among them weed jugs sand some corpse
who leafs through it, let alone writes it

no gull no ship no swimmer
no-one moving through this brilliance
knows he is just a letter, a speck, a sign not a reader

perhaps in some world it has already been read
and this wave is now no more than a brittle leaf
the book has already been thrown away in tatters

or every event in it has been transcribed
because it takes place but the leafing is a momentary rustle

Translated by Alasdair MacKinnon

KONCA SVETA PALIMPSEST

esloveno | Veno Taufer

valovi vihajo
pergament
konca sveta palimpsest

pen
potem voda
led potem

blato
mah že
nov svet

potem klici
ali s severa z
juga z vzhoda ali

zahoda globoko
v gošči sargase
šum

za soncem
kosem pada kosem kosem
pada papir scefran spet

tipam suh
skoz razpoko
ognja od mlečkov obžgan

© Veno Taufer
from: Tercine za obtolčeno trobento
Ljubljana : Mladinska knjiga,
Audio production: Študentska založba / Beletrina

OF WORLD’S END PALIMPSEST

inglés

waves crease
parchment
of world’s end palimpsest

of foam
then water
ice then

mud
moss already
a new world

then cries
either from north
south or east

west deep
in the clotted sargasso
humming

behind the sun
flake falls flake flake
falls paper torn again

dry I grope my way
through crack
of fire burned by milksap

Translated by Michael Scammell & author

ORFEJ

esloveno | Veno Taufer

o pomladi poje pod cvetočo češnjo
v angelskih rokah drži note narobe
poje angelsko žalostno in vražje smešno
ženske in otroci ga gledajo brez zlobe

cvetovi se usipljejo na čelo odmeva mu v glavi
vrane čakajo da sadovi dozore
v grlu mu slina glas ustavi
med zobmi ženske in otroci že čutijo pečké

njegovo srce je ujeda
na nosu mu sedi v oči ga gleda
s sapicami perutnic hladi mu smrtno srago

njegovo srce je ujeda
izkljuje mu oči v lobanjo seda
v zatohli suši grebe s krempeljci za vlago

© Veno Taufer
from: Jetnik prostosti
Ljubljana : Cankarjeva založba,
Audio production: Študentska založba / Beletrina

ORPHEUS

inglés

under a blossoming cherry tree he sings about spring
holds the music upside down in angelic hands
the song is seraphically sad a devilishly funny
women and children watch him without malice

petals flutter down on his brow there’s an echo in his head
crows wait for the fruit to ripen
too much spittle in his throat his voice is stifled
already the women and children can feel the seeds in their teeth

his heart is a bird of prey
it sits on his nose looks in his eyes
cooling his death’s sweat with its flapping wings

his heart is a bird of prey
it pecks out his eyes perches in his skull
its claws scratching in the dry remains for moisture

Translated by Michael Biggins

KONCERT V NARAVI

esloveno | Veno Taufer

ona s pločevinastimi nogami
s peščenimi urami v ustih akvarijem v glavi
on z vsemi stopnišči mesta na rami
pod roko s srcem ki se lahko navije in ustavi

odpreta knjigo in iščeta pot
kjer je nebo voda in cvetni log
kjer ni znojnega papirja in tipajočih oči
ampak kot v kinu lepo ptič žvrgoli

ona razstavi noge akvarij odkrije
in začne loviti ribe
on se na stopnišča povzpne in srce navije

pesek ur goli telesi zalije
ribe švignejo skoz njune žile
v krvavih škrgah skrivajo mračne nagibe

© Veno Taufer
from: Jetnik prostosti
Ljubljana : Cankarjeva založba,
Audio production: Študentska založba / Beletrina

OPEN-AIR CONCERT

inglés

she with tin legs
hourglass in mouth aquarium in her head
he with all the towns’ staircases on his back
under his arm a heart that can be wound up or stopped

they open a book and look for a road
to water sky and blossoming grove
where there is no sweating paper no fumbling eyes
where like in a B picture pretty birds twitter

she opens her legs unlocks the aquarium
starts hunting for fish
he climbs the stairs and winds his heart up

nude bodies drown in sand from the hourglass
fish flick through their veins
with dark designs concealed in their bloody gills

Translated by Michael Scammell & author