Three new Ekelof translations
by Steven Fowler
[ poetry - july 10 ]
When one has come as far as I in pointlessness
When one has come as far as I in pointlessness
each word enthrals
Finds in the loam
which one appears with the archaeologist’s shovel
The minute word you
maybe a pearl of glass
that once hung around another’s neck
The giant word I
perhaps a stone shard
some toothless man used to scrape his morbid
meat
from Strountes (Nonsense) 1955
The silence of the yawning night is vast
The silence of the yawning night is vast
It is not concerned by the scrabbling of human beings
who eat each other upon the shoreline
And I can hear
the glorious watersound
from ships who sail
upon the sea out there
These ships, are they truly so naive?
Sometimes I hear from out there the drawn howls
as though... as though...
from Strountes (Nonsense) 1955
The purifying well
Give me water
Not to drink
But to wash myself
I do not ask for oil
Give me fresh water
See how worms breed in my armpits
On my left thigh on my right
Amid my thighs
Boils supurate
I can pull the skin from the soles of my feet
Grant me your water to wash myself in
Not your oil
Oil I refuse
Give me water
from Diwan över Fursten av Emgión (Diwan on the Prince of Emgion) 1965
