Archive for 11/02/2016

Source: O «Προφήτης» του Χαλίλ Γκιμπράν ζωντανεύει σε μια ταινία κινουμένων σχεδίων σκέτο ποίημα! | FLIX

ritsos front cover


Κοιτάζει πάλι, παρατηρεί, διακρίνει
μέσα σε μιαν απόσταση χωρίς καθόλου νόημα,
μες στη διάρκεια που πια δεν ταπεινώνει,
τους σβώλους ναφθαλίνης στη χαρτοσακκούλα,
τα ξερά κληματόφυλλα στον τρύπιο κουβά,
το ποδήλατο στ’ αντικρυνό πεζοδρόμιο.
ακούει το χτύπημα πίσω απ’ τον τοίχο,
το ίδιο εκείνο, συνθηματικό, καταμόναχο,
το βαθύτερο χτύπημα. Αισθάνεται αθώος
πούχει ξεχάσει τους νεκρούς.
Τις νύχτες, τώρα
δε χρησιμοποιεί ωτασπίδες—τις έχει αφημένες
μες στο συρτάρι του μαζί με τα παράσημά του
και με την πιο αποτυχημένη τελευταία του προσωπίδα.
Μονάχα που δεν ξέρει άν είναι η τελευταία.

He looks again, observes, discerns
in a distance that has no meaning at all,
in the continuance that doesn’t humiliate anymore,
the moth balls in the paper bag,
the dry grape leaves in the leaky pail,
the bicycle on the opposite sidewalk.
he hears the knock behind the wall,
that same one, coded, totally alone,
the deepest knock. He feels innocent
that he has forgotten the dead.
At night, now, he doesn’t
use earplugs anymore – he’s left them
in the drawer along with his medals
and with his last most unsuccessful mask.
Only he doesn’t know whether it’s the last one.

~Γιάννη Ρίτσου-ποιήματα/Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη
~Yannis Ritsos-Poems/translated by Manolis Aligizakis

Michael Aiken reviews Ouyang Yu

Posted: 11/02/2016 by vequinox in Literature

To Koskino


Fainting with Freedom
by Ouyang Yu

Five Islands Press, 2015

Ouyang Yu is a prolific writer whose combination of occupations – poet, novelist, translator, academic – gives some context to this book’s obsessive engagement with word, language and meaning. His biographical note mentions that he came to Australia at the age of 35, and there’s a pervasive trope in Fainting with Freedom of a stranger-in-a-strange-land’s curiosity for the materiality of language and its malleability: something akin to what Kerouac once alluded to when he described his relationship to English – a language he didn’t learn until he was eight – as a tool he could very consciously manipulate as necessary for effect and meaning. For Yu, this fascination is not limited to the experiences of a foreigner acculturating to a new socio-linguistic circumstance, but goes much further and deeper (presumably due in part to or concomitant with his work as…

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Ouyang Yu, Self Translation (Transit Lounge)

Posted: 11/02/2016 by vequinox in Literature

To Koskino


In the ambiguity of Ouyang Yu’s title, Self Translation, we can read not just a creolised or transformed Chinese Australian self, but two selves: a Chinese self on the left page and an Australian on the right. Nor are the two selves completely discrete. Yu’s poetry is as central – and essential – as anyone’s else’s to Australia right now: if the concept of centrality is useful. My point is that he is not just doing his own unique thing, but is writing Australian lyrics that state ‘the death of nature is most beautiful’ without being obvious or obviously ironical (‘Beautiful Death’); he can also begin a poem called ‘Christmas, 1993’, with the line ‘this is the season of death’. In Yu’s poetry the excoriation of the nation is rejuvenated; in ‘Song for an Exile in Australia’ Yu writes, ‘in a loveless season in Australia’, ‘in a poemless season in…

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Still Monkeys

Posted: 11/02/2016 by vequinox in Literature