Sólo quisiera ser uno de los motivos de tu sonrisa, ... / Gabriela Mistral

“Sólo quisiera ser uno de los motivos de tu sonrisa, quizá un pequeño pensamiento de tu mente durante la mañana, o quizá un lindo recuerdo antes de dormir. Sólo quisiera ser una fugaz imagen frente a tus ojos, quizá una voz susurrante en tu oído, o quizá un leve roce en tus labios. Sólo quisiera ser alguien que quisieras tener a tu lado, quizá no durante todo el día, pero de una u otra forma, vivir en ti.”

Gabriela Mistral




“I would only like to be one of the reasons for your smile, maybe a small thought on your mind in the morning, or perhaps a lovely memory on your mind before sleeping. I would only like to be a fleeting image before your eyes, perhaps a voice whispering in your ear, or a light brush against your lips.I would only like to be a person you want to have beside you, not during the entire day, but in one form or other, to live in you.”

Gabriela Mistral

Photo by Federica Erra

Zyj -- mowiles -- ... / Halina Poświatowska

Zyj -- mowiles -- jestes promieniem slonca schwytanym

w barwe kwiatu. Jestes miekkim dotykiem skrzydel pszczoly

jestes waskim zdzblem trawy brzekiem chrabaszcza -- mo-

wiles -- zyj.

Barwa kwiatu gasnie i przeradza sie w owoc mniej piekny

ale potrzebny twoim palcom ktore lekko dotykaja cieplej

nagrzanej skory. Barwa kwiatu umiera... Skrzydla pszczoly

sprzymierzone z wiatrem przynosza w czworokatny cien

ula miod ktorym karmisz usta. Zdzblo trawy cierpkim po-

smakiem przywiera do twoich warg. Usprawiedliwiasz wszy-

stko i cien i ptaka bo wszystko potrzebne tobie. Po co mo-

wisz: zyj jak ptak jak pszczola jak lisc gdy to wszystko jest

toba i toba. Tak powiedz -- zyj dla mnie zyj abym mogl

calowac twoje palce pachnace rumiankiem i szyje podobna

do kwiatu. I brwi jak liscie. I usta.

Wtedy wlosy rozczesze zoltym grzebieniem poloze na po-

duszce rece uspokoje. I bede zyla! Dla ciebie.

Halina Poświatowska

Do live -- you said -- you are a sun's ray caught as the hue of a flower.

You are the soft touch of a bee's wings you are the narrow blade of grass

the buzz of a beetle -- you said -- live.

The hue of a flower goes out and turns into a fruit less beautiful but

needed by your fingers which lightly touch the warm, heated skin. The

hue of a flower dies... The bee's wings allied with the wind bring into

the fourcornered shadow of a hive honey with which you feed your mouth.

The blade of grass with its tart aftertaste sticks to your lips. You

make excuses for everything and the shadow and the bird because you need

everything. Why do you say: live like a bird like a bee like a leaf when

it is all you and you. Say it like so -- live for me live so that I could

kiss your fingers smelling of camomile and your neck so like a flower. And

eyebrows like leaves. And mouth.

Then I will brush my hair with a yellow comb I will rest it on a pillow I

will calm my hands. And I will live! For you.

Halina Poświatowska

Translated by Marek Lugowski

Photo by Federica Erra

kto pomalował twoje policzki ... / Halina Poświatowska

kto pomalował twoje policzki

że płoną

to świt ubarwił moje policzki

czerwono

a kto pociemnił twoje źrenice

że gasną

to zmierzch pociemnił moje źrenice

jasne

a kto ci oddech zatrzymał w krtani

o miły

twoje to usta i twoje ręce

sprawiły

Halina Poświatowska

kim boyadı ki yanaklarını

yanıyorlar.

şafak boyadı yanaklarımı

kırmızıya.

ya kim kararttı ki gözbebeklerini

sönüyorlar.

alacakaranlık kararttı göz bebeklerimi

aydınlık göz bebeklerimi

ya kim tuttu boğazında soluğunu

ah sevdiğim,

senin dudakların ve ellerin

yaptı bunu.

Halina Poświatowska

Çeviri: Seda Köycü Arslantekin

Photo by Federica Erra

When talk to you / Erdinç Durukan

to Alice

I'm talk to you, my love, like talk to a rose
When talk to you, some streets, some birds
When talk to you, your eyes, your lips, your hands
When talk to you, love is a green-eyed path
When talk to you, a white rose your skin
When talk to you, a green leaf is your mouth
When talk to you, your voice is undressing
When talk to you...

Erdinç Durukan

Alice

May / Mary Oliver

May 

May, and among the miles of leafing

blossoms storm out of the darkness -

earth. windflowers and moccasin flowers. The bees

dive into them and I too, to gather

their spiritual honey. Mute and meek, yet theirs

is the deepest certainty that this existence too -

this sense of well-being, the flourishing

of the physical body - rides

near the hub of the miracle that everything

is a part of, is as good

as a poem or a prayer, can also make

luminous any dark place on earth.

Mary Oliver

A Lane Near Arles. May 1888,
by Vincent van Gogh