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Erika Drungytė
Nacionalidad:
Lituania
E-mail:
Biografia
***
look, my love, how the features of my body
change when deaths husking
hand touches me
: my cheeks sink, eyes falling
into the chasm pull in the eyelids like
the stretched skin of a drum, which
you cannot tear and I am blind to
the conditions of your life; violet
firmly brackets my lips
like an old postal seal that cannot
be broken, and you dont know which letter,
which word remained in the urn of your mouth
look, my thin fingers, hands
as if covered by gray fabric cleft by
dried black canals of blood
how tangible now and the passion
charred in corpuscles having rhythmically
pulsated and danced for you, which you would barely touch;
the shrunken knolls of my breasts with a couple
of brown pigmented stains they are sharp
to your estranged palm, not rising
to stroke the vortex of my hair, which
only a few moments ago wrapped
you into my gentle desire, and now
look, how the features of my body change
until nothing remains, until it divides us from the promise
irrevocably made
it is beautiful
the husking hand of death, my love

Blossoms After Ezra Pound
For Kornelijus Platelis

the north wind and the east wind
sharply cutting one another across the hollows of the knees
and pillaging the hair of the westerly
the southerly passionately revealing itself in a dry hot breath
in the very center of the wilderness

in the very center of the wilderness
with a throat full of sharp gravel fragments and sand dust
with a sheaf of thorn grass in the hand
with legs tucked up you silently watch the darkening sky
the pulses of the ritual of night

the pulses of the ritual of night
are repeated by the heart sensing the flow of the white lead
of stars in the canals of blood
slowly scratching the alphabet of heaviness on
the gentle fabric of your body

the gentle fabric of your body
will be rolled by me into reels like the most valuable silk
I will transport it on twin-backed desert ships
along roads trodden by all the kings of myrrh
right to the warm-watered sea

right to the warm-watered seas
I will be your fragrant servant a refuge from the wind
having walked with you to the silent grove
of blossoming peaches like flamingo wings
soaring as the sun danced

soaring as the sun danced
you tried to stop the falling of clear petals
holding back the tears
that I choked back unable to change anything
unable to comfort you

unable to comfort you
I said nothing oh nothing to the billowing caravans
flotillas of patient ships
on which I reach you in the very center of the wilderness
the wind repeating that it is paradise

* * *
How measured you are, my God, how measured.
How carefully you lay everything out in me, as if you
Sprinkled sand into the mandala in colors
Fixed and chosen for my fate.

How measured you are, my God, how measured.
How you polish everything thats real, how you temper,
How you wait for when I will lean on you
No longer wanting to step back.

How measured you are, my God, how you recede
Turning into a single meaningless dot.
How long my gazing, how long
My true conversation with you.

How measured you are, how hard you listen
To my thoughts and sighs, my supplications.
And you give everything after time, because all
That is real is outside times borders.

The Last

and when there is no direction to existence when meanings disappear
I whine and bite my lips bellow gibber
I reject throw off coil up
things turn into the emptiness into which buddhism sinks
and Christs jewishness crumbles
-- the earths bread
is the only dimension I trust

the moons calendar decaying grass the cats vigilance
water water water they do not need witnesses
they are
and I cast about not knowing where my foundation is
and what I can lean against when death comes suddenly
and leads me out into the valley full of searched for truth
and will lead me there
where emptiness is singing silence and all
-- only fresh existence
without meaning
where my face will be the only one and immutable
washed by tears scratched by envy screaming in pain
death will reveal how it is childishly sad and never grown up
lost in the labyrinth and never finding love

because we learn love in childhood
sitting at the table laid for supper
outside the window
when the moon shines pouring into our hearts the silver of longing
and we feel how deep that eternal water is
for which we all hunger plunge in merge
and if you are torn out by the roots and left alone
and if there is no place for you at the supper table
if you are behind the door
if that holiness was never in your plate
o you wanted so to taste it
swallow the warmth and feel it is good
until death comes you will be sick with that thirst and begging eyes
youll rattle the lords door -- our daily bread
forgive me and Ill forgive Ill forgive Ill for what

death puts out a white white dish for me
and pours pours the milk of the full moons generosity
which I will drink greedily until I settle down until I sleep
and when I wake I will be allowed to sit
at the table laid out for supper all around children
will chatter and I will give each an equal share
and the fragrance of bread will unite us all

* * *
when the fallen wild berries in fingers of ice
freeze into a blessed neither here nor there sweetness
when your head spins when it is easy to show
your death the crown of the setting sun
when your body tears itself off the branch and theres nothing
more already nothing only the falling gently turns
into you until in the falling everyone leaves you
and you hear His quavering flutes from everywhere

TRANSLATED BY JONAS ZDANYS

Pomes en lituanien :

iedlapiai pagal Ezrą Poundą
Kornelijui Plateliui


vėjas iaurės ir vėjas rytų
aiiai kertantys vienas kitam per pakinklius
ir vakario skalpą plėiąs
trokiu karčio alsu isiduodantis aistriai pietys
pačiame dykumos vidury

pačiame dykumos vidury
pilna gerkle atrių vyro eienų ir smėlio dulkių
su dygliaolės gniuulu saujoj
tu parietęs kojas stebi tyliai temstantį skliautą
nakties ritualo tvinksnius

nakties ritualo tvinksnius
atkartoja irdis jusdama tekant kraujo kanalais
baltą viną vaigdių
i lėto įbrėiantį sunkio raidyną į velnųjį
kūno tavojo audeklą

kūno tavojo audeklą
suridensiu į ritinius tartum brangiausiąjį ilką
dykumos dvikupriais laivais
jį gabensiu keliais pramintais visų miros karalių
iki pat jūros iltavandenės

iki pat jūros iltavandenės
būsiu tau a kvapioji tarnaitė uuovėja būsiu
atlydėjus tyliojon giraitėn
pumpuruojančių persikų tarsi flamingų sparnai
saulei paokus plevenančių

saulei paokus plevenančių
iedlapių skaidrų kritimą tu ir pats dar bandei
sulaikyti gniaudamas aaras
kuriomis a springau negalėdama nieko pakeist
paguosti tavęs negalėdama

paguosti tavęs negalėdama
nieko ak nieko sakiau linguojantiems karavanams
flotilėms kantriųjų laivų
kuriais a tave pasiekiu dykumos pačiame vidury
vėjui kartojant tai rojus

Paskutinis

ir kai nėra krypties buvimui kai inyksta prasmės
inkčiu ir lūpas kandioju riaumoju kliediu
a atmetu nusimetu isirangau
daiktai pavirsta tutuma kurioj budizmas stringa
ir Kristaus ydikumas trupa
emės duona
yra vienintelis matmuo kuriuo pasitikiu

mėnulio kalendorius pūvanti olė katės budrumas
vanduo vanduo vanduo tai jiems nereikia liudininkų
jie yra
o a blakausi neinodama kur mano pamatas
į ką a atsiremsiu kai staiga ateis mirtis
ir isives mane į slėnį pilną iekomos ramybės
ir isives mane tenai
kur tutuma yra dainuojanti tyla ir viskas
tiktai varus buvimas
be reikmių
kur mano veidas bus vienintelis ir nepakeičiamas
iplautas aarų subraiytas pavydo klykiantis i skausmo
mirtis parodys koks jis vaikikai graudus ir niekad neuaugęs
paklydęs labirinte taip ir nesuradęs meilės

nes meilės mes imokstame vaikystėje
sėdėdami prie stalo vakarienei padengto
u lango
kai viečia mėnuo pildamas į mūsų irdis ilgesio sidabrą
ir mes nujaučiam koks gilus yra tas aminas vanduo
kurio visi mes alkstam pasinerti susilieti
ir jei tave irauna ir palieka vieną
ir tau nėra prie vakarienės stalo vietos
jei esi u durų
jei niekada tos ventumos tavoj lėktėj nebuvo
o taip norėjai paragauti
ryti ilumą ir jausti gera
iki ateis mirtis tu sirgsi trokuliu ir praančiom akim
klebensi viepačių duris kasdienės mūsų duonos
atleiskite ir a atleisiu a atleisiu a u ką

mirtis man tiesia baltą baltą lėktę
ir pila pila pieną pilnaties dosnumo
kurį a gersiu godiai kol nurimsiu kol umigsiu
ir kai nubusiu man bus leista atsisėsti
prie stalo vakarienei padengto aplink vaikai
čiaukės ir a dalinsiu jiems po lygiai
ir duonos kvapas mus visus sujungs

***

Koks lėtas esi, mano Dieve, koks lėtas.
Kaip viską atsargiai dėlioji many, tarsi bertum
Po smiltį į mandalą man paskirtąsias
Ir atrinktas lemčiai spalvas.

Koks lėtas esi, mano Dieve, koks lėtas.
Kaip gludini visa, kas tikra, kaip grūdini,
Kaip lauki, kada a tavin atsiremsiu,
Atlyti daugiau nenorėdama.

Koks lėtas esi, mano Dieve, kaip tolsti,
Pavirsdamas vienu bereikmiu taku.
Koks ilgas iūrėjimas mano, koks ilgas
Tikroji kalba su tavim.

Koks lėtas esi, kaip i lėto klausaisi
Minčių ir atodūsių, mano maldavimų.
Ir visa ipildai po laiko, nes visa
Kas tikra, yra ne laike.

***

kai nubyrėjusios laukinės uogos ledo pirtuos
įąla į palaimingą nei čia nei ten saldumą
kai sukasi galva kai lengva tavo mirčiai
parodyt saulės besileidiančią karūną
kai tavo kūnas atsiplėia nuo akos ir nieko
daugiau jau nieko vien kritimas velniai virsta
tavim kol kritime visi tave palieka
ir virpančios Jo fleitos i visur tau pasigirsta

CURRICULUM VITAE
Erika Drungytė

Name, surname Erika Drungytė
Date of birth 1971 01 27

Home address E. Oekienės 20 3, 44254 Kaunas, Lithuania
Telephone +370 614 13883;
E-mail address drungytee@gmail.com

Education

1978 1989 Kaunas Secondary School Aura;
1989 1994 University of Klaipėda, B.A. in Lithuanian Philology and Theatrology;
1995 University of Klaipėda, M.A. in Philology;
2002 Vytautas Magnus University, PH. D. in the Humanities.

Qualification improvement

1998 University of Latvia, Faculty of Philology, special courses.

Description of work activities

1995 1996 Teacher of the Lithuanian language and literature, Kaunas Secondary School of Aura;
1995 1996 Presenter of the programme Outlooks of Literature at the Lithuanian National Radio;
1998 Lecturer of the history of Lithuanian literature, University of Latvia;
1996 2002 Lecturer, PH.D. studies at Vytautas Magnus University;

2003 Division of Culture at Kaunas City Municipality

Other fields of activity:

From 1995 Organizer of the literary saloon, presenter of evenings;
Reader of poetry [Literary Compilation Lyrics of Midnight], organizer of various events and projects;

1998 Organizer and participant of the international project View-word-sound at the gallery Eglės galerijoje [Gallery of Fir]

2002 Member of the Council of Expert of the Druskininkai Poetry Fall;

Translator of fiction;

2005 Chief Organizer of the International Drum Festival Drum, Please

Books

1998 Collection of poems Tiksli iema [Precice Winter];

2003 Collection of poems Ramybės [Quiteness]
2008 Collection of poems Rūkas ir vėjas[Fog and wind]
Translated books
Liana Langa Vieniieji / Bezpiederīgie, Kaunas: Nemunas, 2008

Membership in unions

Since 1999 Lithuanian Union of Writers .
Since 2010 Member of the Board of Lithuanian Union of Writers
Member of the Board of Kaunas section of Lithuanian Union of Writers

Languages Russian, English, Latvian, Polish

drungytee@gmail.com

 

Desarrollado por: Asesorias Web
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