Post #274
24
Forwarded from пиши расширяй
Dmitry Gerchikov
when we'll go to the west bank,
the desert will bloom with smoldering cellophane
when we'll go to the west bank,
we'll see a border post and nothing else
men in helmets and bulletproof vests
will interrogate us for 10 hours
where we’re from, why we’re here, what we want to see,
what we think about the
coldest day in 10 years of record-keeping,
whether we’re lovers or just friends
when we’ll go to the west bank,
the west bank will come to us
we’ll feel it with our entire skin
how it seeps through the body
like a fata morgana: blade of beam cuts through
an airy cube the color of faded khaki
the coldest day in 10 years of measurements
will turn out to be surprisingly warm
when we’ll go to the west bank,
we’ll remember who we were in a past life
ghosts of former incarnations
will meet on the highway at night
with canvas bags filled with
the whitest, the saltiest cheese
the crumbliest, the cheapest tobacco,
the most viscous, most delicate butter
this is the warmest among the coldest days
in a succession of the longest, the shortest days
when we return—we’ll see
that we shouldn’t have gone anywhere
when we return—we’ll see
that the west bank is in every drop
of rain that never fell,
in every stone of unfallen hail
when we’ll travel to the west bank,
we’ll remember who we were in a past life
he was a canvas bag, you—white cheese,
she—the shortest day in a string of the longest days
but no one was reborn as the west bank,
not even birds know what’s going on in these parts
so when, when will we be reborn as the west bank,
to find out what’s really happening there
to watch how the desert will bloom with smoldering cellophane,
to see the border post and nothing else
translated from russian by lisa kh. 😾 edited by dani s. 🧑🍳
when we'll go to the west bank,
the desert will bloom with smoldering cellophane
when we'll go to the west bank,
we'll see a border post and nothing else
men in helmets and bulletproof vests
will interrogate us for 10 hours
where we’re from, why we’re here, what we want to see,
what we think about the
coldest day in 10 years of record-keeping,
whether we’re lovers or just friends
when we’ll go to the west bank,
the west bank will come to us
we’ll feel it with our entire skin
how it seeps through the body
like a fata morgana: blade of beam cuts through
an airy cube the color of faded khaki
the coldest day in 10 years of measurements
will turn out to be surprisingly warm
when we’ll go to the west bank,
we’ll remember who we were in a past life
ghosts of former incarnations
will meet on the highway at night
with canvas bags filled with
the whitest, the saltiest cheese
the crumbliest, the cheapest tobacco,
the most viscous, most delicate butter
this is the warmest among the coldest days
in a succession of the longest, the shortest days
when we return—we’ll see
that we shouldn’t have gone anywhere
when we return—we’ll see
that the west bank is in every drop
of rain that never fell,
in every stone of unfallen hail
when we’ll travel to the west bank,
we’ll remember who we were in a past life
he was a canvas bag, you—white cheese,
she—the shortest day in a string of the longest days
but no one was reborn as the west bank,
not even birds know what’s going on in these parts
so when, when will we be reborn as the west bank,
to find out what’s really happening there
to watch how the desert will bloom with smoldering cellophane,
to see the border post and nothing else
translated from russian by lisa kh. 😾 edited by dani s. 🧑🍳
- ❤ 3
- 👎 1
