25 Pins in a packet women creators, How Words Play, Poetry, Translated Poetry, Translation

How to Hide Unhappiness / Cum Ascundem Nefericirea by Ștefan Manasia translated by Clara Burghelea

The Miracle

The red leaves
struggle in the glass-

angels whose name
I don’t know

I press them among the pages
of the dead poet’s book,

whose name I promise
to unlearn.

A little water
(glittering like vodka)

and their torture
seems attractive to me.

From the bus, I showed
Estera

the red tree
like the one in Kim-Ki-duk’s
Spring, Summer, Fall…Winter and Spring.

I was afraid the driver
might increase speed

and she will per sempre miss
the miracle.

*Published, Waxwing Literary Journal


MIRACOLUL

Frunzele rosii
Rezista in paharul de sticla-

Ingeri al caror nume
nu-l cunosc.

Le presar intre paginile cartii
Poetului mort,

De-al carui nume
Promit sa ma dezvat.

Putina apa
(sticleste ca vodca)

Si tortura lor imi pare
Atragatoare

Din autobuz i-am aratat
Esterei

Copacul rosu ca-n
Anotimpurile lui Kim-Ki-duk.

Mi-era teama
ca o sa accelereze soferul

iar ea va pierde per sempre
miracolul.

*Published, Waxwing Literary Journal


 

Haiku

My father sends off black
energy also
under the Moons
of another planet.


 

HAIKU

Tata emite energie
neagra si sub Lunile
altei planete.


The Yellow Armada

Swollen like lead bullets,
the forsythia buds
are about to burst.
Unhinged from their little parachutes,
the aliens have entered the town-
occupied it in one night.
Carlos Williams, Viorel Muresan
are no longer here,
no one will make it.


ARMADA GALBENĂ

Umflaţi ca alicele,
mugurii de forsythia
stau să pleznească.
Descotorosiţi de paraşutele micuţe,
alienii au intrat în oraş –
l-au colonizat într-o noapte.
William Carlos Williams, Viorel
Mureşan nu mai sînt pe aici,
nimeni n-are să scape.


 

About a Girl

She has no signal
but knows how to give signals.
When she holds you tight
by her little, ,
florally-tattooed hand
leading you through the club,
through the colonies of polyps. You’d

follow her, even if
there were a cage
under the butcher’s block
at the end of the hallway.
But she’s laughing now –

a strange Asian woman
at an acupuncture class. You

kiss her and she bites you
and butterflies millions of them,
subatomic, flap
their wings artery
to artery and ampoules
of Benzedrine,
thousands of them,
break on their wings.

And you ask yourself,
almost overflowing with happiness:

What does the childhood of an extraterrestrial look like?
On what part of the male anatomy
did the Stone Age queens nibble?
Who will distribute the clones
in the posthuman social pyramid?


PORTRET DE FATĂ

Ea n-are semnal
dar ştie să emită semnale.
Cînd te tîrăşte de mînă prin club
prin mulţimea de polipi
cu mînuţa ei fermă
tatuată floral. Ai

urma-o chiar dacă
în capătul holului
o să v-aştepte o cuşcă
şi-o masă de măcelărie.
Numai că ea rîde acum –

asiatică stranie
la lecţia de
acupunctură. O

săruţi şi te muşcă
şi milioane de fluturi
subatomici îţi
zboară de pe o arteră
pe alta, şi mii de fiole
de benzedrină li se
sfărîmă de aripi.
Iar tu te întrebi
aproape explodînd
de-atîta fericire:

Cum arăta copilăria unui extraterestru?
Ce parte din anatomia masculină ronţăiau
reginele din epoca de piatră?
Cine o să repartizeze clonele în
piramida socială postumană?


 

How to Hide Unhappiness

Forsythia or Hibiscus?
She asks, passing
Rows of sofas, executive
Chairs with arms, shower cabins,
four-person hot tubs,
energy efficient light bulbs
metal-halide lamps,
table lamps, screws.

Hibiscus, but make sure it isn’t purple,
He says, purple is kind of
common and vulgar.
The Chinese put the sour flour
in their tea
and fill themselves
with antioxidants
for the entire year.

Hibiscus, he says, pink or white.

*Published, Waxwing Literary Journal


CUM ASCUNDEM NEFERICIREA

Forsythia sau Hibiscus?
întreabă ea, cînd traversează
şirurile de canapele, fotolii
directoriale, cabine de duş,
căzi de patru persoane,
becuri economice,
lămpi metal halide,
veioze, şuruburi.

Hibiscus, dar să nu fie mov,
Răspunde el, mov e aşa
comun şi vulgar.
Chinezii pun floarea
acrişoară în ceai
şi se umplu
de antioxidanţi
să le ajungă tot anul.

Hibiscus, spune el, alb sau roz.

*Published, Waxwing Literary Journal


How to Hide Unhappiness / Cum Ascundem Nefericirea & other poems are © Ștefan Manasia, these translations are © Clara Burghelea

About Ștefan MANASIA

Ștefan MANASIA (born in 1977, Piteşti, Romania). He is a poet and journalist, editor of Tribuna cultural magazine. He founded Thoreau’s Nephew Reading Club in Cluj, 2008, alongside Szántai János and François Bréda, which became the largest Romanian-Hungarian literary community in Transilvania. He published 6 volumes of poetry and had his poems translated in Hungarian, French, German, Polish and Modern Hebrew. He is also the author of a collection of essays and literary chronicles published in 2016: Stabilizator de aromă/ The aroma stabilizer. His poetical credo is Man, this mystic bug.

About Clara Burghelea

 

Clara Burghelea is a recipient of the 2018 Robert Muroff Poetry Award. She is Editor at Large of Village of Crickets and got her MFA in Creative Writing from Adelphi University. Her poems and fiction have been published in Peacock Journal, Full of Crow Press, Quail Bell Magazine, Ambit Magazine, The Write Launch and elsewhere.

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