Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Ion Mureşan

Embodiment of the real through forgetting

It is all that I have forgotten, the rubble, the dross,
that actually embodies reality.
The things and the deeds my teeth were unable to gnaw,
the knives unable to slice, from these
                                    products of forgetting
which weary claws ever lift from the acid
                                    bath of memory
and cast disgustedly outside
a new world might be embodied.

Ditches and pits, ditches and pits,
idle savagery nestling among delicate
                                  morsels of calf and thigh
among unpaired breasts, of differing sizes
                                  and colours, ditches and pits,
I swathe my aged body in black lace
and forgetting it for eternity, I give it rebirth.

WERKELIJKHEIDSVORMING DOOR VERGETEN

Alles wat ik ben vergeten, puin, sintels, resten
vormen eigenlijk de werkelijkheid.
Dingen en feiten die de kiezen niet konden vermalen,
de messen niet konden halveren, uit dergelijke producten van het vergeten
die de vermoeide klauwen altijd weer uit de zuurbaden van het geheugen ophalen
en met weerzin verwerpen, alleen daaruit
kan een nieuwe wereld worden gevormd.

Greppels en kuilen, greppels en kuilen,
sloom roofdier genesteld tussen de tere brokstukken van kuiten en dijen
tussen niet bij elkaar horende borsten van alle maten en kleuren, greppels en kuilen,
in zwart kantwerk baker ik mijn verouderde lijf,
en het voor altijd vergetend, word ik herboren.

Constituirea realului prin uitare

Tot ceea ce am uitat, molozul, zgura, resturile
constituie într-adevăr realitatea.
Lucrurile și faptele pe care dinții nu le-au putut roade,
cuțitele nu le-au putut înjumătăți, din aceste
                    produse ale uitării
pe care ghearele obosite le scot mereu din baia
                    de acid a memoriei
și le aruncă cu scârbă afară, numai din acestea
se poate constitui o lume nouă.

Șanțuri și gropi, șanțuri și gropi,
sălbăticiune leneșă cuibărită între fragmente
                     delicate de pulpe și coapse
între sâni desperecheați, de diferite mărimi
                     și culori, șanțuri și gropi,
trupul meu îmbătrânit într-o neagră dantelă îl înfășor
și uitându-l pe vecie, îl renasc.
Close

Embodiment of the real through forgetting

It is all that I have forgotten, the rubble, the dross,
that actually embodies reality.
The things and the deeds my teeth were unable to gnaw,
the knives unable to slice, from these
                                    products of forgetting
which weary claws ever lift from the acid
                                    bath of memory
and cast disgustedly outside
a new world might be embodied.

Ditches and pits, ditches and pits,
idle savagery nestling among delicate
                                  morsels of calf and thigh
among unpaired breasts, of differing sizes
                                  and colours, ditches and pits,
I swathe my aged body in black lace
and forgetting it for eternity, I give it rebirth.

Embodiment of the real through forgetting

It is all that I have forgotten, the rubble, the dross,
that actually embodies reality.
The things and the deeds my teeth were unable to gnaw,
the knives unable to slice, from these
                                    products of forgetting
which weary claws ever lift from the acid
                                    bath of memory
and cast disgustedly outside
a new world might be embodied.

Ditches and pits, ditches and pits,
idle savagery nestling among delicate
                                  morsels of calf and thigh
among unpaired breasts, of differing sizes
                                  and colours, ditches and pits,
I swathe my aged body in black lace
and forgetting it for eternity, I give it rebirth.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère