contemporary poetry

WAS IST / WHAT IS / CARE ESTE

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, translated German-English June 2, 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WAS IST / WHAT IS / CARE ESTE

Was ist mit den schlafenden Brüsten
unter dem sanftgrünen Hemd,
wer hat dir die Füße mit dem Betttuch verknotet,
was liegt der Bleiklotz der Decke auf dem atmenden Leib,
der bedauerlich schnauft und sehr wenig Luft kriegt.
Draußen rasselt ein Fahrzeug mit scheppernden Rohren vorbei,
ein Vogel piepst seltsam, die Sonne sticht dir in die Nase,
brennt dir am Ende noch das Gesicht entzwei.
Doch deine Schultern, die hältst du ängstlich versteckt,
auch alles andre, unter die Federn geklemmt.
Ich warte und warte, Freitag ists, 13. Mai um halb vier,
aber du denkst nicht dran, schnarchst und sagst was im Schlaf
vom Fliegenpack, das dich stört, und fuchtelst, tötest die Lust
der Staubfäden, die da flimmern und tanzen
auf dem Lichtstrahl, der schräg das Zimmer durchmisst.

ROLAND ERB

———————————————-

WHAT IS

What about the sleeping breasts
under the soft green shirt,
who knotted your feet with the bed sheet,
what is the lead block of the cover on the breathing body,
who puffs regrettably and gets very little air.
Outside, a vehicle rattles past with clattering pipes,
a bird beeps strangely, the sun stings your nose,
and in the end it burns your face in two.
But your shoulders, you keep them fearfully hidden,
everything else too, tucked under the feathers.
I wait and wait, it’s Friday, May 13th at half past three,
but you don’t think about it, you snore and say something in your sleep
about the fly pack that bothers you, and waving, you kill the lust
of the stamens that flicker and dance
on the beam of light that diagonally crosses the room.

———————————————-

CARE ESTE

Ce zici de sânii care dorm
sub cămașa verde moale,
care ți-a înnodat picioarele cu cearșaful,
ce este blocul de plumb al paturei pe corpul respirand,
care pufăiește regretabil și primește foarte puțin aer
Afară, un vehicul huruie cu țevi zgomotoase,
o pasăre sună ciudat, soarele iti frige nasul
și sfârșește prin a-ți arde fața în două.
Dar umerii tăi, îi tii ascunsi cu teama,
și toate celelalte, ascunse sub pene.
Eu aștept și aștept, este vineri, 13 mai, la trei și jumătate,
dar nu te gândești la asta, sforăi și spui ceva în somn
despre haita de muște care te deranjează și fluturand,
ucizi pofta
staminelor care pâlpâie și dansează
pe fasciculul de lumină care traversează diagonal camera.

Translated by Maria Magdalena Biela

LUFTSPRÜNGE / AIR JUMPS / SALTURI IN AER / ILMAHYPPYJÄ

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, translated German-English May 28, 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LUFTSPRÜNGE / AIR JUMPS / SALTURI IN AER / ILMAHYPPYJÄ

 

Die Clowns
mit den weißen Schminkmasken
machen heut Abend
so große Sprünge.
Und plumpsen
immer wieder
zurück in das
Sägemehl.
Sie falln mit den bunten
Pluderhosen
tief in den Staub, es
klatscht
ganz leise.
Aber
sie springen
wunderbar weit
in die Höhe, sie
scheinen
für einen Moment
zu schweben
im siebten Himmel.
Was tut ihr da,
närrisch, verquer,
täppische
Clowns.

ROLAND ERB

—————————–

AIR JUMPS

The clowns
with the white make-up masks
make such big jumps
tonight.
And plop down
over and over again
back into
the sawdust.
They fall with the colorful
baggy pantaloons
deep in the dust,
clapping very softly.
But
they jump
wonderfully far
up into the air,
they seem
for a moment
to float in the seventh heaven.
What are you doing there
foolish, strange,
clumsy
Clowns.

—————————–

SALTURI IN AER

Clovnii
cu măștile albe de machiaj
fac salturi atât de mari
în seara asta.
Si se rostogolesc
iara si iara
inapoi
in rumegus.
Cad
adânc în praf
cu pantalonii harem
colorati,
bufnind foarte
ușor.
Dar
sar
minunat de departe
sus, in aer,
par
pentru o clipa
sa pluteasca in al saptelea cer.
Ce faceti voi acolo,
clovni prosti, ciudati,
stângaci.

—————————–

ILMAHYPPYJÄ

Klovnit
valkoiseksi meikatut
tekevät tänään
niin suuria hyppyjä.
Ja tömähtävät
uudelleen ja uudelleen
takaisin
sahanpuruun.
He putoavat värikkäissä
lökäpöksyissään
syvälle puruihin,
Se tömähtää hyvin
pehmeästi.
Mutta
he hyppivät
uskomattoman kauas
korkealle ilmaan,
he näyttävät
hetken ajan
leijuvan seitsemänteen taivaaseen.
Mitä te siellä teette,
hölmöt, oudot,
kömpelöt
klovnit.

 

Translated by Maria Magdalena Biela

DER WÄCHTER / THE GUARD / PAZNICUL / VARTIJA

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, translated German-English May 28, 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DER WÄCHTER / THE GUARD / PAZNICUL / VARTIJA

Sieh auf die weiße Sickerwand vor dir,
dein Blick macht sie noch feuchter.
Steh auf und geh vier Schritte hin,
vier Schritte her.
Du hörst ein weit entferntes Rauschen, nein,
ein Rieseln,
oder doch nichts.
Ein Dunst ringsum von abgekühlten Schwaden Rauchs,
ein vager Schmerz von innen.
Du bist ein Mann mit einer Lampe
und Tisch und Stuhl und
Nacht,
sehr langer Nacht.

ROLAND ERB

———————————-

THE GUARD

Look at the white seepage wall in front of you
your gaze makes it even wetter.
Get up and take four steps back,
four steps forward.
You hear a distant murmur, no
a trickling,
or nothing.
A haze of cooled swaths of smoke all around,
a vague pain from within.
You are a man with a lamp
and table and chair and
Night,
very long night.

———————————

PAZNICUL

Priveste peretele alb de igrasie din fața ta,
privirea ta, făcându-l și mai umed.
Ridică-te și fă patru pași indarat,
patru pași inainte.
Auzi un murmur îndepărtat, nu,
o picurare,
sau nimic.
O ceață de nori de fum răcit imprejur,
o durere vagă dinăuntru.
Ești un om cu o lampă
și masă și scaun și
noapte,
foarte lungă noapte.

…………………………….

VARTIJA

Katso edessäsi olevaa valkoista kosteaa seinää,
katseesi tekee siitä vielä kosteamman.
Nouse ja ota neljä askelta taaksepäin,
neljä askelta eteenpäin.
Kuulet kaukaisen kohinan, ei,
vaan solinan,
tai et oikeastaan mitään.
Viilenneitä savupilviä ympärillä,
vaimea kipu sisällä.
Olet mies, jolla on lamppu
ja pöytä ja tuoli ja
yö,
hyvin pitkä yö.

Translated by Maria Magdalena Biela

Birthdays

POSTED IN contemporary poetry January 17, 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Birthdays

I’ll bake tonight a rounded cake
to celebrate the wish I make
I’ll lit my candles with the Moon
and let them glow in nightly gloom.

I wish myself a better year,
to feel and see what I can’t hear,
and as a snake sheds its own skin
I’d like to shed my old chagrin.

In darkened room a mirror stays,
in candlelight I catch a gaze
from mirror staring straight at me.
One moment thought: who could that be?

The candles shiver as I do,
She looks at me as if she knew
something I did not. Who is she?
From mirror comes another me.

A girl with dark wide opened eyes,
she’s silent without any smiles.
She’s watching from another time,
she hears and sees a silenced chime.

I look into the mirror’s will
another me its waves reveal.
All other me that through time strives
to help me learn my other lives.

I make a wish and write it on
a piece of paper which anon
I fold in half and light in fire,
and let it burn my heart’s desire.

Candles like not to be blown out.
Wet fingertips or with my clout
I kill their flame. I’m born again.
With all my stars I drink champagne.

Maria Magdalena Biela

Let’s have a HAPPY NEW YEAR!

POSTED IN contemporary poetry December 31, 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s have a HAPPY NEW YEAR!

 

Preparing a real feast at home ‼️No need for fancy restaurants, nor spending money , everything we need to welcome the most waited New Year is here, under my nose‼️ Improvising – le mot du jour ‼️ Lights, please! Glasses, ready? Food – everything under 1000 kcal ‼️ Aaand, let’s be in a silly childishly good mood ‼️ COVID is the guest of honour: to be shot at midnight!
HAPPY  HEALTHY NEW YEAR ❤️‼️ All friends invited! Required ugly smiles, bad jokes, total amnesia, jeans and t.shirts with dirty logos aaaaand if your glass seems to be half full or empty, ADD TEQUILA ❣️‼️

Maria Magdalena Biela

La fereastra Ajunului / At the Christams Eve’s window

POSTED IN contemporary poetry December 25, 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

La fereastra Ajunului / At the Christams Eve’s window

I-am colindat prin telefon pe mama și tata in seara asta sfântă, așa cum fac in fiece an, de când am plecat. Anul trecut am întrebat cu zâmbete:
– Primiți cu colindul?
Și ei, fericiți, mulțumiți, au acceptat râzând. Acum însă…
Pentru câteva minute a răsunat doar glasul meu și, in adâncul nopții, plânsul lor tăcut, sfâșietor de trist și neajutorat… Apoi plânsul nostru… fără cuvinte.
Știam vorbele ce urmau să fie spuse, și eu, și ei. Neputința este mai dureroasă decât moartea.
– Sărut mâna, mamă… Sărut mâna, tată… Crăciun luminat și binecuvântat!
– Sa trăiești, draga mamei!..
O voce înecată în lacrimi, vocea dragă a tatei, nu a reușit să ducă pân’ la capăt gândul…
Undeva in cerul întunecat, plânsul amar al părinților mei s.a pierdut printre stelele mute.
Mama și tata… acești oameni buni care au trudit spre a trai, spre a mă ajuta sa trăiesc, se topesc fara mărturie, in pulberea drumului vieții.
Ne.am șters cu sufletul unul altuia lacrimile.
Hai, dragii mei, încă un an, va rog frumos 🌟.
…………………………………………………………………….

At the Christams Eve’s window

I caroled my Mom and Dad by  phone this holy night, as I do every year since I left. Last year I asked them with a smile:
– Do you accept carolers?
And they, happy, content, accepted laughing. But now …
For a few minutes only my voice sounded and, in the depths of the night, their silent, heartbreaking sad and helpless cry … Then our cry … without words.
We knew the words that were to be said, both me and them. Helplessness is more painful than death.
– Kiss your hand, Mom … Kiss your hand, Dad … Happy and blessed Christmas!
– Be well, darling girl!
A voice drowned in tears, my father’s dear voice, failed to complete the thought .
Somewhere in the dark sky, my parents’ bitter cry was lost among the voiceless stars.
Mom and Dad … these good people who worked hard for life, who helped me live, they dissolve slowly without witness, in the dust of the road of life.
We wiped each others tears away with the soul.
Come on, my only parents, one more year, for me, please…

Maria Magdalena Biela

Joulurauhan julistus 2020

POSTED IN contemporary poetry December 25, 2020

Joulurauhan julistus 2020

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GM8M5TD4F5k

 

Maria Magdalena Biela

MERRY AND PEACEFUL CHRISTMAS FROM TURKU

POSTED IN contemporary poetry December 25, 2020

https://youtu.be/GM8M5TD4F5k?t=64

La multi ani, Mama!

POSTED IN contemporary poetry November 10, 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

La multi ani, Mama!

Maria Magdalena Biela

ODINS IMPERIUM

POSTED IN contemporary poetry October 9, 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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