Literature in Translation |

“I Didn’t Want to Be Born Here (or There),” “Decompression” & “untitled”

on Translating the Poetry of Krystyna Lenkowska

 

For the past several years, I’ve lived part time in Rzeszów, a Polish city near the Ukrainian border. I’m fortunate to be part of a small, lively literary community here, and particularly lucky to have the Polish poet and translator, Krystyna Lenkowska, as a neighbor. We’re both fascinated by the translation process, probably because we’re both obsessed with the particulars of language, and we began translating one another’s poems as an extension of our conversations about the translation process. Krystyna’s English is excellent, so she always does a first draft of her own in English, and then I work with that draft, going back and forth with her about nuances of meaning, sound, and syntax. This is challenging, of course, because Polish and English have very different sonic qualities, and they operate very differently, grammatically. While Krystyna’s poems might initially seem very direct and straightforward, when I start to work with her on a translation, I’m always startled all over again by how layered and complex her poems actually are. And then historical and cultural contexts have to be taken into account, and “carried over,” too, if possible, from one language to the other. It’s a delicate process, mysterious, and wonderfully rich, both frustrating and deeply satisfying for someone who’s in love with language.

— Cecilia Woloch

 

/     /     /     /     /

 

 

I Didn’t Want to Be Born Here (or There)

 

 

I was searching picking choosing

among grains of sand

drops of seawater

atoms of air

 

too cold too warm

too wet too dry

too dark too light

too tight

 

I’ve ended up where

it doesn’t matter

 

I’m made up wholly of inertia

from which I suck the strength

 

of the stump

of a phantom

tree

 

 

tr. Cecilia Woloch & Krystyna Lenkowska

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

 

Decompression

 

 

Let go of my eyes

don’t hold my eyelashes by the roots

let me close my eyes

at least at dawn

 

let them drink of rain

moisten with morning dew

 

it’s unheard of —

half a century

held by the eyes

umbilical cord and fallopian tubes

 

let go of my long eyes

I can’t lend them to you

no matter how tightly

you hold the rope

 

I will take them with me, finally,

and put them into the living sockets

 

and you, rest solemnly

in your own precious organs

and return to the noble and dear

dust

Mom.

 

 

tr. by Cecilia Woloch & Krystyna Lenkowska

 

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

 

[untitled]

 

 

When they come, that day and that night

when we sit down to drink wine that has aged

somewhere between steppe and steppe

 

into vats of standing time

we’ll dip our mouths and fingers like so

as if we were drowning

 

and bite by bite

gulp after gulp

we’ll share this wormwood bread

somewhere between steppe and steppe

 

until deep blue absinthe covers the table to the horizon

as if the last vat had burst

and your eyes came to me, free

 

and were the steppe.

 

 

tr. by Cecilia Woloch

 

/    /     /     /     /

 

NIE CHCIAŁAM SIĘ TU (ANI TAM) URODZIĆ

 

Szukałam przebierałam

w ziarnach piasku

kroplach morza

atomach powietrza

 

za zimno za ciepło

za mokro za sucho

za ciemno za jasno

za ciasno

 

wylądowałam tam, gdzie

wszystko jedno

 

jestem więc cała z inercji

z niej wysysam siłę

 

pniaka

z fantomem

drzewa.

 

/     /     /

 

ODBARCZANIE

 

Puść moje oczy

nie trzymaj za cebulki rzęs

pozwól przymknąć powieki

choćby nocą

 

niech się napoją jej dżdżem

ranną rosą nawilżą

 

czy kto słyszał, żeby

pół wieku

trzymać za oczy

za pępowinę jajowody

 

puść moje długie oczy

nie mogę ci ich użyczyć

choćbyś nie wiem jak

kurczowo trzymała postronek

 

wezmę je wreszcie ze sobą

i włożę w żywe oczodoły

 

a ty spoczywaj uroczyście

w swoich cennych organach

i obracaj się w proch szlachetny

i drogi

mamo

 

/     /     /

 

Kiedyś nadchodzą ten dzień i ta noc

że zasiadamy do wina co dojrzało

gdzieś między stepem a stepem

 

w kadziach stojącego czasu

maczamy usta i palce tak

jakbyśmy nurzali się cali

 

i kęs po kęsie

haust za haustem

dzielimy się tym chlebem piołunem

gdzieś między stepem a stepem

 

aż modry absynt pokrywa stół po horyzont

jakby nam pękła ostatnia kadź

a twoje oczy przychodziły do mnie wolne

 

były stepem.

Contributor
Cecilia Woloch

Cecilia Woloch has published six collections of poems, most recently an expanded and updated edition of Tsigan: The Gypsy Poem, a book-length poem that has been the basis for multi-lingual, multi-media performances in Los Angeles, Paris, Warsaw, Athens and elsewhere. Her honors include fellowships from the Fulbright Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, the California Arts Council, and CEC/ArtsLink International. Based in Los Angeles, she has lived part-time in southeastern Poland, near the Ukrainian border, since 2022.

Contributor
Krystyna Lenkowska

Krystyna Lenkowska is a Polish poet and translator. Her work is included in the representative anthology of Polish women poets Scattering the Dark (White Pine Press 2016, Buffalo-New York). Her translations of poems by Emily Dickinson, the Brontës, Michael Ondaatje, Anne Carson, Ruth Padel, and Dana Gioia have been published in Polish literary journals and as books. She is a member of the Association of Polish Writers (SPP) and the Polish Literary Translators Association (STL). She lives in Rzeszów.

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