Mila Haugova – translated by James Sutherland-Smith


Mila Haugova

translated by James Sutherland-Smith

 

FRAGMENTS OF THE VANISHING

SPEECH OF CHILDHOOD TERROR

 

Fragments of the vanishing speech of childhood terror
she goes out in a sparkling summer ringing dress
in the garden between the trees she stands in a patch of sun
a younger man; she gazes (at him)
she doesn’t move (she’s never seen him before
she’ll never see him again) it plays out
in a foreign resort (Father always came back in the evening
after missing the day.) Often she slept and dreamed
he’d return. And now in this strange place.
Something was lost that you always wait for.

Glass roads broken (a white asphalt river …)

 

 

FRAGMENTY MIZNÚCEJ

REČI TERORU DETSTVA

 

Fragmenty miznúcej reči teroru detstva
Prechádza sa v letnom zvonivom oblečení
v záhrade medzi stromami v škvrne slnka stojí
mladší muž; obzrie sa (k nemu)
nepohne sa (nikdy predtým ho nevidela
nikdy viac ho neuvidí) odohráva sa to
v cudzom letovisku (Otec sa večer vždy vrátil
po chýbajúcom dni.) Často už spala a snívalo
sa jej že sa vrátil. A teraz na tom cudzom mieste.
Čosi sa stratilo na čo vždy čakáte.

Sklo cesty rozbité (biela asfaltová rieka…)

 

 

FRAGMENTS OF A VANISHING

CHILDHOOD TERROR (SPEECH)

 

Fragments of a vanishing childhood terror (speech)
A woman you know. The landscape in day
light. These nocturnal dreams (painless nightmares)
you no longer want. Only these lights. When you returned
from childhood into an undesired world. Porcelain
and polish (coated with the cyanide scent
of apricot seeds). From a dream she always only
wakes briefly, “Where were you again? Hol
voltál?” You just say. There. Here. At home. While
in the woods they mourned for you   raspberries
their skins shed young snakes                        little pine martens.

How to stop punishing for running away?

 

 

FRAGMENTY MIZNÚCEHO

TERORU DETSTVA (REČl)

 

Fragmenty miznúceho teroru detstva (reči)
Žena ktorú poznáš. Krajina v dennom
svetle. Tie nočné sny (ľahké nočné mory)
už nechceš. Len tie svetlá. Keď si sa vrátila
z detského do nechceného sveta. Porcelán
a politúra (pretretá kyanidovou vôňou
marhuľových semien). Vždy zo sna len
krátko zobudená: »Kde si zase bola? Hol
voltál?« Povieš len. Tam. Tu. Doma. Kým
v lese smútili za tebou                         maliny
z kože zvlečené mladé hady   drobné kuny.

Ako za úteky prestať trestať?

 

 

SPEECH FROM THE VANISHING

FRAGMENTS OF THE TERROR OF ONE LOVE

 

The speech of the vanishing fragments of the terror of one love
Like gravel. Sand. Stone. Kies. Sand. Stein.
You walk in bare feet … the dry bottom of the river …
corridor; monastery-labyrinth (narrow rectangles
of herbs in the walls of the bordered hot garden)
you repeat repeatedly (put the seed in the ground,
grow, water, pick)
You emerge from the time of the glass door; you don’t have time
(for love)

How to write it ? How is it to be the threshhold
of an open door?

The mirror our first childhood memory.
Going. Approaching likeness.
(You are. Te vagy. They say two vanishing
always present shadows.) We are. Only.

 

 

REČ Z MIZNÚCICH

FRAGMENTOV TERORU JEDNEJ LÁSKY

 

Reč z miznúcich fragmentov teroru jednej lásky
Ako štrk. Piesok. Kameň. Kies. Sand. Stein.
Kráčaš holými nohami… suché dno rieky…
chodba; kláštor-labyrint (úzke obdĺžniky
bylín v múrom ohraničenej horúcej záhrade)
opakuješ opakované (položiť semeno do zeme,
rásť, polievať, vziať)
Vystúpiš z času sklenených dverí; nemáš čas
(na lásku)

Ako to napísať? Ako je to byť prahom
otvorených dverí?

Zrkadlo naša prvá detská spomienka .
ĺsť. Približovať sa k rovnakému.
(Ty si. Te vagy. Povedia dva miznúce
vždy prítomné tiene.) Sme. Len.

 

 

TARGET OF A SPEECH TRAP

FOR CHILDHOOD TERROR

 

Target of a speech trap for childhood terror
Never to be mistaken; never
to begin stopping; a green crossing
way through meadows (from Kalvaria hill
riding a bicycle to fall on to
cinders on one’s hands and knees)
washing blood from already
clean white (as Aunt Josie
washes in the trough in the yard) organdie
aprons, blouses, skirts, illusions
of lace (their ribbons in linen)
on the wall the tail
of a lizard growing into the language of childhood
now

I write in the language of my father (of the world)

 

12.8.2008

TERČ PASCE REČI

TERORU DETSTVA

 

Terč pasce reči teroru detstva
Nikdy sa nepomýliť; nikdy
nezačať prestať; zelená krížová
cesta cez lúky (z kopca Kalvárie
sa na bicykli spúšťať padať do
škvary na dlane na kolená)
prať krv z už
bieleho čistého (ako teta Jozefa
perie na dvore v koryte) organtín
zásteriek, blúzok, šiat, marivo
čipiek (ich stuha v bielizníku)
na múre chvost
jašterice dorastá k jazyku detstva
teraz

Píšem v jazyku otca (sveta)

12.8.2008

 

 

Mila Haugová was born in 1942 in Budapest and grew up bilingual her father being Slovak, her mother Hungarian. She has published over twenty collections of her own poetry and translated from English and German including Sylvia Plath and Paul Celan. Her latest selection in English is Eternal traffic (Arc Publications) in 2020. Haugová is the recipient of the prestigious Vilenica Prize 2020. 

James Sutherland-Smith was born in Scotland, but lives in Slovakia. He has published seven collections of his own poetry, the most recent being The River and the Black Cat, published by Shearsman Books in 2018. He also translates poetry from Slovak and Serbian for which he has received the Slovak Hviezdoslav Prize and the Serbian Zlatko Krasní Prize.