The Misadventures of Quinxy truths, lies, and everything in between!

26May/080

Scraps from Comrade Zaitsev – Volume 17

Often when I try to translate Taras Zaitsev's work I am only able to beautifully translate a few lines of a given poem.  Converting a poem one language to another requires that each line retain meaning, feeling, sometimes rhyme, and most problematically dimensions (beats).  This requires tremendous effort, and for an amateur, hobbyist is often beyond my abilities or time.  But the beautiful fragments which I could translate should not be punished, unknown for my limitations...  So, periodically I'll post those fragments, so they are not wasted...  maybe someday I'll go back and put them in their more perfect context.  But somedays rarely come.

a shared moment of honest abstract everything {i wanted},
a prolonged polite ensuing twilight of few and still words,
and an unwelcome predestined end for Her lack of being {there}.

-

wake, dear thing, the world waits
to find her light reflected in your eyes,
the air to feel your gentle massage of motion,
the earth your alighting touches,
and i to know i am nestled in your thoughts
and periodic embrace .

-

when every ounce of me
expects
(it never is);
hours make days,
hope fails,
and the sobering veil
of unfeel blankets
all again.
I was alive. (albeit dreaming).

-

in some moment
soon to come
in some bitstream
delicately strung,
will come an infinite beginning
or a finite end.

-

euphoria decays into a sleepy nothing
my words have chased away whatever once was
a hasty moment’s too sure (nothing).

-

Shameful (as I am)
For being too
Naively eager;

-

i loved you {your shadow}
for a {prolonged} and useful
moment.

-

if she knew me {as i am}
it might {have}
happen{ed}.
she might {have}
love{d} me.

-

fuel for feelings lost
to troubled times.
reason for thinking bravely
and doing right things.
founded on a kind
self deception,
and a spark {of a girl}.

 

no beauty is enough to move you.
no hope or faith or love, enough.
you are kept by primitive urges.
regulated by hidden things.
and I {was} by you.

-

oh she of unbroken silence
forgive this silly fool
for imagining a too bright world of you.
for daring to include you in,
past fact or reason.

 -

Poet Taras Zaitsev, various poems over various years
Translation by Quinxy von Besiex, 2008