Навіщо. What For - Марія Старожицька

Просто збирай ці сємки та гучно лузай…

...А восени заіржавіє під дощами,

Як вже ніхто збирати його не прийде

28 листопада 2014 року

In the morning, bullets sowed the soil aplenty.

Maybe they pierced bodies, maybe they flew past them.

Such metallic, selected seeds of weapons,

Maybe they grow and rise faster when there is blood.

Frost won't destroy these deeply stuck seeds,

Come spring, straight wires will grow out of them

And buds of sharp flowers will swell.

Then, the strange field will be pollinated with gunpowder,

And machine-guns will germinate, and grenades.

Just you be careful when tilling the land for them:

The soil is too sensitive, and so it is fruitful.

You can't devise a better bouquet for your lover,

Only it's hard to cut iron stems.

The crop will stand there so sparking,

Full of the bullets of the needed caliber:

Just gather these seeds and crack them with gusto...

...Come autumn it'll rust under the rain,

As nobody'll come to harvest it.

28 November 2014

          "If I were a real poet I would be able to prevent war":

          A note made by an unknown on the eve of WWII,

          quoted by Elias Canetti

          in the speech "Poet’s Profession”

          delivered in Munich in 1976

***

I’m looking for signs of the end of the war

In the eyes of a girl who is only ten days old

But she does remember everything. And this is to be continued

As she is looking for her mom’s breasts too stubbornly

And hides the look which carries the knowledge of the world

And about whether there’s going to be any respite.

Then I look for whether there’ll be an end to the war

In the eyes of a guy whom the led had avoided

But he remembers everybody who, on the battlefield,

Plowed the hard soil with themselves.

He casts his look aside for there’s disbelief in gods

And his non-forgiveness for enemies.

This is why I am looking for that there’ll be an end to the war

Just inside, deep, here, in myself.

And I find out that despite pain I am still alive

And have peace and quiet that can work miracles

And I have what can stop this turn of events

Where, hiding behind the war, death is walking around.

4 January 2014

          "Якби я був справжнім поетом, я б зумів запобігти війні", -

          запис, зроблений невідомим напередодні Другої світової,

          процитований Еліасом Канетті

          у промові "Професія поета",

          виголошеній у 1976 р. в Мюнхені

***

Шукаю ознаки того, що кінець війні

У погляді дівчинки, якій тільки десять днів,

Але вона ще все пам`ятає. А далі буде,

Бо надто уперто шукає мамині груди,

Ховає погляд, в якому знання про світ,

І те, чи буде скоро якийсь просвіт.

Відтак шукаю, чи буде війні кінець

У погляді хлопця, якого минув свинець,

Але він усіх пам`ята, хто на полі бою

Землю жорстку востаннє зорав собою,

Відводить погляд, бо там зневіра в богів

І те, що він не вибачить ворогів.

Тому шукаю, що прийде кінець війні

Просто всередині, глибоко, тут, в мені,

Знаходжу, що попри біль я таки жива,

І маю спокій, що може творить дива,

І маю те, що спинить цю круговерть

В якій, прикрившись війною, гуляє смерть.

4 січня 2014 року

The rays are alight:

Movie projectors are on.

Films about every one who was killed

Are shown on the heavenly screen.

Those who are from Maidan and those who are from the war sector

Watch attentively, like a festival jury.

They swear, they cry, they laugh, they are scared

That their mothers may see something from life.

They show it from the start when the film is cut by iron.

And they ask in whisper, raising their faces, to retake

Or remake the last second...

23 February 2015