АЛЛЕГОРИИ
Лия Пурпура
Утёс, покатостью своей
напоминает шаль,
которой
укрыть мы можем наше горе -
ведь мы так одиноки
среди существ на нас похожих,
чтобы казалось нам,
что живы мы;
названия даём
мы горам и утёсам,
дабы никто не заблудился
в нашем горя море.
October 1, 2012
Черновой перевод: 10 декабря 2016 года
Lia Purpura (born February 22, 1964, Mineola, New York) is an American poet, writer and educator. She is the author of four collections of poems (King Baby, Stone Sky Lifting, The Brighter the Veil, It Shouldn't Have Been Beautiful), three collections of essays (Rough Likeness, On Looking, and Increase) and one collection of translations (Poems of Grzegorz Musial: Berliner Tagebuch and Taste of Ash). Her poems and essays appear in AGNI, The Antioch Review, DoubleTake, FIELD, The Georgia Review, The Iowa Review, Orion Magazine, The New Republic, The New Yorker, The Paris Review, Parnassus: Poetry in Review, Ploughshares, Southern Review, and many other magazines. She is Writer in Residence at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County.
ALLEGORIES
Lia Purpura
That crag, in its hunching,
suggests a shawl
under which we can slip
our burdens, since
we alone among creatures
bestow likenesses
for assurance
we really exist,
and name boulders and peaks
Widow’s this, Widow’s that,
so others might navigate
by the forms
of our grief. |
