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Užrašytos fotografijos/Annotated Photographs, by Marius Burokas, Translated by Rimas Uzgiris

4/3/2020

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Užrašytos fotografijos/Annotated Photographs 

I.

Rašytojų nuotraukos 

stengiausi jus perprasti 
žiūrėjau į veidus 
bet iš tikrųjų ieškojau 
ne jų paslapties 
ieškojau savo – 
ar mus sieja kas nors: 
gija, siūlas, ryšys 
ar esam paliesti 
to paties piršto 
ar laiku pakėlėme to 
juodo telefono ragelį 
ar pervėrė mus tvyksnis 
šviesa 
kai žinai: 
tau duota 
tau praskleidė uždangą 
pelnytai 
žinoma, pelnytai 
tie spąstai 
tas žinojimas 
priklausomybė
saldi nekantra 
pelnytai 
visų veiduose atsispindi 
tas pats sutrikimas 
nuostaba 
drovus įžūlumas 

puikybė

​
1. 

Photographs – Writers

I tried to grasp you
I stared at your faces
but was never really looking
for the secrets they contain –
I was searching for mine: 
whether something connects us
a thread, a cord, a tie
whether we are touched
by the same finger
whether we picked up 
the black receiver in time
whether the spark pierced us
the light
when you know
it is given to you
the curtain parts
deservedly
certainly, deserved
those snares
that knowing
the dependence
and sweet impatience
deserved
reflecting in every face
that same derangement
wonder
the coy audacity

the haughtiness

Picture
Man With Bandage, by Fred Herzog (Canada, b. Germany) 1969

​II 

              Fred Herzog: Man with Bandage, 1968 

skutosi įsipjovė 
klijavo kruopščiai 
iš įtūžio virpančiais pirštais 
pleistro kryželį 
ir išlėkė kaip stovi 
marškinėliais baltais 

tuščia mieste 
tik juodosios našlės 
šildosi ryto saulėje 
snaudžia taksistai 
juodosios našlės 
nulydi jį žvilgsniais 
krutina lūpas: 

               – sūnau 
               girdėjom šiąnakt tave 
               niūrūs tavo sapnai 
               duobėti 
               klausėm 
               kaip švilpia 
               tavo plaučiai 
               dunksi širdis 
               žinom 
               gyvenimo turi 
               kiek siekia rankos 
               o mirties – 
               nuo viršugalvio 
               iki padų 

jis stovi 
nudiegtas 

vaiskiam ore 

priešais 
driekias trys gatvės 

ir 

mirksi 

mirksi 

geltona


​2.

    Fred Herzog, Man with Bandage, 1968

he cut himself shaving
and painstakingly pasted
fingers trembling in fury
a bandaid cross on his chin
then fled as he was
wearing a white t-shirt

the city is empty
only widows clothed in black
warm themselves in the morning sun
while taxi drivers nap
and the black widows
trace his passage
their lips mumble

               sonny
               we heard you last night
               your dreams are dreary
              cratered
              we listened 
              to your lungs
              wheeze
              and your heart pound
              we know
              you have life
              as far as your hands reach
              and death
              from head to toe

he stands
stock still

in the bracing air

three streets stretch
before him

and

the yellow light 

flashing

flashing
​

III 

           Masahisa Fukase, The Solitude of Ravens, 1975/1976 

varnų mėnuo 
varnų vienatvė 

medžiuose tykšta 
tamsa 

varno nagas 
mėnesio nagas 
ją pradreskia 

kartus 
tavo kranksmas 
varne 

kirsk 
kranto ledą 

varne 

lesk 
mano tamsą 

išpėduok 
ant pamėkliško 
sniego 

mano krytį


3.
             Masahisa Fukase, The Solitude of Ravens, 1975/1976

raven moon
raven solitude

splashes of darkness
in the trees

torn 
by the raven’s claw
the moon’s talon

bitterly
you caw
raven

now break 
the bank’s ice

raven

peck out
my darkness

mark
my fall
on ghostly snow

with your feet


View Algimantas Kuncius' photos, including Palm Sunday by the Gates of Dawn, here. (Right side, second down, three figures with fronds.)


​IV 

                 Algimantas Kunčius, Verbų sekmadienis prie Aušros vartų, 1968 

išaugtais švarkais 
nubruožtais batais 

pakaušiai gruoblėti 
kaip grindinio akmenys 

su gėlos vandeniu 
akyse 
ir trim kalbomis 
burnoje 

gniaužia verbeles 

– – – – – – – – 

tiek metų 

tiek metų 
praėjo 

tik variokuose keičiasi 
herbai

​4.

            Algimantas Kunčius, Palm Sunday by The Gates of Dawn, 1968

outgrown coats
scuffed boots

back bones
like cobblestoned streets

with stinging water
in their eyes
and three tongues 
in their mouths

they clutch their willow fronds

- - - - - - - - - - - -

all those years

all those years
have passed

and only the crests in copper coins
have changed


Picture
Evening Prayer, by Jan Bulk (Poland) c. 1900.

V 

             Jan Bułhak, Vakaro malda, 1900 

ant galinių klauptų 

maudžiančiam 
šalty 

ar yra man vietos? 

vienam 
po skliautais 

tavyje, už tavęs 
po tavo lukštu 

ar yra? 

– – – – – – – 

nors galėčiau 
ir nebeklausti 

atsakei į viską 
mano gyvenimu

​5.

             Jan Bułhak, Evening Prayer, 1900

to kneel on 
the back pew

in aching 
cold

is there space for me?

alone 
under the vault

in you, behind you
under your shell

is there?

- - - - - - - - 

maybe I don’t need
to ask questions

you already answered
with my life

​Marius Burokas 
translated from the Lithuanian by Rimas Uzgiris

These poems were first published in Marius Burokas' book, Now I Understand (2018, Parthian).
"Photographs-Writers" also appeared in The Brooklyn Rail.

Marius Burokas is a poet and translator. He studied Lithuanian language and literature at Vilnius University. Now he is a freelance writer and translator. Marius made his debut with the poetry collection Ideograms (Ideogramos) in 1999. His third book – I‘ve Learned How Not To Be (Išmokau nebūti, 2011) was awarded The Young Yotvingian prize as a best young poet’s book, published in the last two years. This book was also awarded the Antanas Miškinis literary prize. In 2016, he won the Mayor’s Prize for poetry about Vilnius. He was editor in chief of How the Earth Carries Us: Twenty-Six Young Lithuanian Poets (Vilnius, 2015), and is now editor of the Vilnius Review. 2018 saw the release of his fourth poetry collection: Svaraus buvimo (Of Clean Being), and his first collection in English: Now I Understand (2018, Parthian). Burokas’ poetry has been translated into Polish, Russian, Latvian, Finnish, Slovenian, English, German and Ukrainian. Some of his poetry is also published in the New European Poets anthology (2008). He has translated the poetry of Allen Ginsberg and William Carlos Williams, and the prose of James G. Ballard, Charles Bukowski, Philip Roth, Jeanette Winterson and others.

Rimas Uzgiris is a poet, translator, and critic. His work has appeared in Barrow Street, AGNI, Iowa Review, Hudson Review, The Poetry Review (UK) and other journals. He is the author of North of Paradise, published by Kelsay Books (2019). Tarp, his poetry in Lithuanian translation also appeared in 2019. He is translator of Caravan Lullabies by Ilzė Butkutė (A Midsummer Night’s Press), Then What by Gintaras Grajauskas (Bloodaxe), Now I Understand by Marius Burokas (Parthian), The Moon is a Pill by Aušra Kaziliūnaitė (Parthian), and Vagabond Sun by Judita Vaičiūnaitė (Shearsman). Uzgiris has contributed significantly as editor and translator to two anthologies: How the Earth Carries Us: New Lithuanian Poets (Lithuanian Culture Institute), and New Baltic Poets (Parthian). He holds a Ph.D. in philosophy from the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and an MFA in creative writing from Rutgers-Newark University. Recipient of a Fulbright Scholar Grant, a National Endowment for the Arts Literature Translation Fellowship, and the Poetry Spring 2016 Award for translations of Lithuanian poetry into other languages, he teaches translation at Vilnius University.
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