Neither Woke, Nor Asleep
a verse translation
a poem by Domokos Szilágyi, translated by Joe Váradi
Neither Woke, Nor Asleep
ㅤㅤI am joyful just a bit,
ㅤㅤmy torments, small, I submit
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ(Szabédi)
Neither woke, nor asleep,
not living, nor buried deep,
neither thirst, nor hunger pangs,
neither work, nor idle hands,
not this way, nor that —
neither crippled, nor robust,
fits and starts end in a bust —
lie to me, I asked,
tell the truth, all the same —
I have become just as lame
as a newborn,
as helpless and forlorn;
neither woke, nor asleep,
not living, nor buried deep,
neither thirst, nor hunger pangs,
neither work, nor idle hands —
beyond salvation:
alive, crucified.
Observe, all, my final station,
Mother, by your side.
see below for the original, by Transylvanian-born Hungarian poet, writer, translator Domokos Szilágyi (1938–1976), who ended his own life rather young after a prolonged illness. he was survived by a son who perished in the 1977 Bucharest earthquake, and his ex-wife, herself a poet and translator, Gizella Hervay, who also took her own life a few years later. I think I will explore her work next.
Se ébren se alva
ㅤㅤBoldog vagyok kicsit,
ㅤㅤmert kínjaim kicsik
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ(Szabédi)
Se ébren, se alva,
se élve, se halva,
se szomjan, se étlen,
se munkán, se tétlen,
se így, se amúgy —
rokkantan vagy épen,
nem megy semmiképpen —
szólj hozzám, hazudj,
mondj igazat, mindegy —
olyan lettem, mint egy
csecsemő, olyan
magatehetetlen és gyámoltalan;
se ébren, se alva,
se élve, se halva,
se szomjan, se étlen,
se munkán, se tétlen —
túl a megváltáson:
élő feszület.
Senki meg ne lásson,
Anya, nélküled.
(1973)
