ahogy nagymama lépteit a fiókba rakta
hímzett ujjával
az eleven cérnát a gépre csavarta
vénáit terítette
száradni a napra
felnézett
és a falu nem volt már alatta.
it was a play of bones
as grandma put her steps in the drawer
with embroidered fingers
she screw the lively thread onto the machine
spread out her veins
to dry in the sun
looked up
and the lodge was no longer below her.
with embroidered fingers
she screw the lively thread onto the machine
spread out her veins
to dry in the sun
looked up
and the lodge was no longer below her.
translation: Ovidius On The Tiles
Hmm, this one is definitely interesting to say the least, but it makes me feel kind of uncomfortable... But that's my problem. I think the rhythm in this one could be improved a little, though I like how it gets more intense towards the end. The images are well-portrayed and unique, well chosen words and expressions. Not amongst my favorites from you, but still a very thought-provoking, symbolic and skillfully crafted poem.
VálaszTörlés