Paravozov Library: Eugeny Gorny

Poems

 DREAM I

I dreamed you were dead 
heart-crushed I awoke 
the streets were as empty as fire 
heart-beating - a tunnel, a voice 

darkness was falling through unmerciful snow 
on the black couch a pallor stretched out 
your arm - a falling leaf. tell me why 
the shadows of trees are everlasting in night?


 AUTUMN

Autumn has come 
and all things are beginning to die 
were falling 
leaves 
yellow red blue black 
so unwilling to fall 
and therefore 
silently circling 
silently circling 
over the corpses 

 
 BLOOD-CROSSED

she has sick eyes 
he has a sick imagination 
blood-crossed 
they count the drops 

dumb silence of muteness 
envelops melting bodies 
neither bare nor naked 
simply purely bodily 

she has sick eyes 
he has a sick imagination 
neither bare nor naked 
crucified on the cross


DREAM II
 
I moved on the staircase beyond the space 
through the fire hollows ice fields 
across the bursts of submachine guns outside and within me 
crushing the perfection of cylinder and tetrahedron 
in this sleepless breathing sea 
where life is only a form of nought 
floods of letters and othersН emotions 
pierce me through


CROSSING THE DESERT

Crossing the desert 
where forwards and backwards are indistinguishable to sight, 
with sand in his eyes and cloudless sky, 
without any occurrence, only the sun 
up and down, or, occasionally, a tushkan crawls out, 
whistles and disappears behind sand-hills; 
in this desert where the song of sand 
is heard only by the ears of sand, and by the skin 
of a lizard on the sand; where every thought 
is embodied in the form of prickle or whistle, 
where to see a cyclist means to see a mirage; 
crossing the desert, 
lifting and lowering his feet, 
gazing in front of him, 
lifting and lowering his feet, 
the camel crosses the desert.


SUMMER
 
Summer has come. The woman has undressed 
and, naked, walks out onto the balcony. 
As usual, the street below was bustling, 
the maple was green, its foliage rustling, 
terrible heat. Shadows were running, 
fluff flying. I walked out after her. 
She gently bent her back and knees, 
and now I copulate with her.


DEPRIVED OF EVERITHING
 
Deprived of everything 
your last skin taken 
beaten up and thrust with an awl 
thrown onto the rubbish, and left 

you have nothing - 
and had you anything ever? - 
here you are, smeared with faeces, 
naked, in the desert you stand
 
(Translated by Mass and the author)
 
 
GOD
 
How dry is my mouth, my sweet Lord! 
Give me a sip, a drop of spittle. 
In terror the word will die in Sahara, 
In the pain the tongue will be moved in the sand-hill. 
Or wilst Thou destroy these sounds of mine, 
The song that I always address to Thee? 

The wolves that howls in the wilderness 
Are less wretched than I, for they have their song. 
In fields, forests, seas and the cloudless sky 
All things sign out their life with a voice. 
Mute heavy stones rolling down from high mountains 
Give birth to their song, or a likeness of song. 

But I with my speech, my immortal soul, 
Tortured by tongue-tie, die each minute. 
I beseech Thee, deliver me from needless chatter, 
From restless designs and useless desires. 
For I long to behold more brightly and clearly 
Than the dry hollow thing that litter the sand. 
But my ears are shortsighted and sad is my heart. 

In the desert light dazzles. The fateful sky 
Falls like a stone and quenches me. 
Is Thy truth in the traces that melt from my vision? 
Is Thy voice in the singing of the sands of desert? 
Then we vainly implored Thee to slake us with death, 
Crying of pain, supposing it to be the essence of life, 
If the sand is only the face of the sea, 
If the sand is only a way into silence.
 
(Translated by Clare Guest and the author)
 

 CHILDISH MEMORIES OF PETE P.
 
		1 

when I was about eight 
I heard the word cunt in the street 
I was about to ask my parents 
what it meant 
(we were sitting at the kitchen table having dinner 
a bare lamp hung down from the ceiling) 
I have never asked 
why? 

		2 

I like to build up little houses with liquid mud 
to climb trees 
to play at knives with the other kids 
to tear off the legs of flies 
and to set fire to the trash on the rubbish tip 
I also like to take tram with daddy 
looking through the window...so nice 
the engine is rattling 

		3 

the most pleasing memory 
how I sat at the front desk 
looked at our new school-mistress 
and secretly masturbated under the desk 
		* 
how inspired she was talking about dostojevski 

		4 

I was a backward pupil 
and jane used to come to my home to help me do my lessons 
such was her social assignment 
I read a textbook aloud 
while she got under the table 
unbuttoned my trousers and sucked my member 
		* 
she finished school with the gold medal 

		5 

the old woman is falling 
and her drawers are showing 
it was kids and me who tightened the cord 

		6 

aunt lida our neighbour 
told my parents 
that I always piss beside the lavatory pan 
(whenever you come there's always a pool!) 
I took a thrashing 
then it turned out that the tube leaked 
which connected the pan with the tank 

		7 

I had a toy - puss in boots 
I had a bike too 
I broke off the legs of the puss 
and after a while the bike was stolen
	 
(Translated by Mass and the author)