Matthew Zapruder 
Translator

on Lyrikline: 4 poems translated

from: slovenščina to: angleščina

Original

Translation

Črni scenariji

slovenščina | Primož Čučnik

Ta človek na mostu je vedno tam.
Zaposlen s poskušanjem, da bi izprosil kaj denarja,
od nas, ki smo ga izprosili iz skladov
in ga nehote razdajamo. Stalno je april
in vsak dan smo prvega. Po navadi mesto
nastopi s kako urgentnostjo. Rešilec na nujni vožnji,
tiranija prihrankov v rokah tatov,
rdeča nit se prekine s strelom
in treba je na začetek.

A če je to šala, potem je slaba.
Veliko praznih flaš in polnih kant,
z iglami prebodeni poldnevniki,
v zenitu so vse ljubezni večne, na negativu nerazbolene,
zamenjane. Potem vsak hlipa sam
in čez njegovo ležišče zabrije veter,
zvali se v posteljo, narejeno iz ostankov,
pobaše, česar niso požrli psi,
pije vodo iz občudovane fontane.

Na pol tukaj, na pol z mislimi drugje,
tako živim na cesti, na prekletem dežju,
v tej plundri in blatu, prisluškujem izlivu kanalizacije.
Zaudarjam, spomnim se malo, za nohti imam črno,
od sebe dajem največ, kar lahko.

© Primož Čučnik
from: Delo in dom
Ljubljana: Lud Literatura, 2007
Audio production: 2008 Literaturwerkstatt Berlin

Black scenarios

angleščina

This man on the bridge, he’s always there.

Busy trying to swindle us out of our money

as we swindled it out of various funds,

unintentionally giving it away. It’s April

all the time, every day the first. Usually

the city makes its appearance with some emergency.

An ambulance on urgent drive,

tyranny of savings in the hands of thieves,

a shot breaks the red thread,

and back to the beginning.


If this is a joke, it’s a bad one.

Plenty of empty bottles and stuffed trash cans,

meridians pierced with needles,

all loves are eternal in the zenith, painless on the negative,      

mistaken. Then everyone weeps by himself,

with icy wind sweeping across his resting place,

he rolls on the bed made out of leftovers,

grabs everything the dogs haven’t taken,

drinks the water out of the admired fountain.


Half here half somewhere else in thoughts,

that’s how I live on the street, in this damned rain,

in this slush and mud, eavesdropping on the canals.

I stink, I don’t remember much, there’s black behind my nails,

I give it my all.

Translated by Ana Pepelnik and Matthew Zapruder

Kako brati in zakaj

slovenščina | Primož Čučnik

Ne, kar je bilo zares, ampak kako
je bilo zapisano. V zvezdah in premikih
prometa, v hišah na samem in velikih mestih.
Jezus je prava rešitev za vse težave, pravijo
pridigarji na vogalih in prenosnih odrih.
In šele takrat imamo pravo zabavo.
Kako to brati in zakaj
imeti sveto pismo za podstavek,
biti ta napol ležeči bralec
živčne besede, ki se lušči od stropa
tako diskretno kot pojasnilo.

Saj naše knjige govorijo vse kaj drugega.
Prej je bila ljubezen večna,
a nekaj je moralo iti narobe.
Kako to brati in zakaj
je treba skozi ta pekel in kaj reči
bitjem, ki so bila tu pred nama
in bojo ostala, ko bova že zdavnaj mimo.
Kot da bi obstajal še en pekel,
ki ni tako pekoč in se lahko zbudiš
iz njega kot iz more.

Saj ne, kar je zares, ampak kar je
zapisano. V zvezkih, ki se sklonijo nad naju
kot prelomljene obljube,
umiram od žeje, da bi te spet videl srečno,
kot si bila takrat, ko sva se srečala.
Še vedno sva prosta in živa.
Občutljiva kot rastlina v polepljenem lončku,
ki ni uvela in že ves čas narašča
v nekaj, kar bo preživelo. Najine
približne predstave o strahu,
ki sva ga prepoznala drug v drugem.

Bil je najin, tu ni dvoma.

In vedno znova pojasnilo, vedno znova.

© Primož Čučnik
from: Delo in dom
Ljubljana: Lud Literatura, 2007
Audio production: 2008

How to read and why

angleščina

Not what it really was but how

it was written. In stars and shifts

in traffic in desolate houses, and big cities.

Jesus is the true answer for all the troubles, preachers

say on street-corners and makeshift platforms.

And only then do we have a real show.

How to read this and why

the holy bible for a pedestal

to be this reader, half-reclining, reading

hectic words, peeling off from the ceiling

discretely like an explanation.


It’s that our books say anything but this.

Love used to be eternal

but something must have gone amiss.

How to read this and why

do you need to go through this hell and what to say

to beings who were here before the two of us

and will remain once we are gone.

As though there were another hell

but not as spicy and you can easily wake up

from it as from a nightmare.


Not what’s really true but what’s

written. In notebooks bending over us

like broken promises,

I’m dying of thirst to see you happy

again, as you were when we first met.

We still are free and alive.

Vulnerable like a flower in a small decorated pot,

it has not wilted, all along it rises

into something that will outlive. Our

vague images of fear

we recognized in each other.


No doubt, it was ours.


And every time over and again explanations.

Translated by Ana Pepelnik and Matthew Zapruder

nenadoma sneg

slovenščina | Ana Pepelnik

Danes mi gre svet na živce.
Ljudje so zategnjeni
kot popki na češnji.
 
Če zapišem da sem sama
to tudi mislim. Z glasbo
med prsti ponazarjam slabo pesem.

Potem je svet kar naenkrat spet
v redu. Plundro je pobralo
čez noč in vrabci so pri zajtrku.

Rada bi spet dobila kartico
s tremi vrsticami o tem
kako je kaj z ljudmi v drugih mestih.

Audio production: Literaturwerkstatt Berlin, 2010

Suddenly snow

angleščina

Today the world gets on my nerves.
People are overstrained
like buds on a cherry tree.

If I write down that I am alone
I mean that. I illustrate bad a poem
with music between my fingers.

All of a sudden the world is ok.
The slush was gone through the night
and sparrows are having breakfast.

I want another postcard
with a few lines about how it is
with other people in other towns.

Translated by Ana Pepelnik and Matthew Zapruder

december

slovenščina | Ana Pepelnik

Čez umazanijo posuto po mestu
se je naredila tanka skorja ledu.
Ljubljana kot torta z marcipanovim
prelivom. Če obhodiš malo ulic
še preden se stemni in se mesto sprazni
lahko vidiš kako se ljudje rahlo zaletavajo.
Nanje se usipa sneg kot v krogli
s figuricami. Ko jo potreseš
se figurice zaletavajo in nad njimi krožijo
bele pike. Če je naokrog tišina lahko slišiš
praznično petje in rahlo potrkavanje.
Danes sem utrujena. Drsam se po tankem
ledu in pazim da se ne zaletavam.
Mrmram si sveto noč ker se je že stemnilo.
V žepu imam marcipan. Vsakič ko se kdo
rahlo zaleti vame ga malo odgriznem.
Samo zato da sneg ki ga lovim med prste
postane topel. Samo zato da zdržim.

Audio production: Literaturwerkstatt Berlin, 2010

December

angleščina

Over the dirt-infested city spreads
a thin veneer of ice. Ljubljana’s
a marzipan-covered cake. If you wander
through a few alleyways even as dark
is emptying the town you’ll see how people
are softly colliding. Snow falls on them
as on the figurines in a crystal ball
when you shake it the figurines begin
colliding softly in a swirl of snowflakes.
If it is quiet you can hear carols,
a tinkle of chimes. I am tired today.
Skating on thin ice I try to avoid
those slight collisions. I murmur holy night
to myself because it’s already dark.
In my pocket I keep marzipan and each
time someone bumps me bite a little off
so that the snow is warm when I catch it
in my fingers. So that I can hold out.

Translated by Ana Pepelnik and Matthew Zapruder