Near Al-Hoceima.

We were lying in bed....
by Daniil Kharms (Trans. Simona Schneider & Matvei Yankelevich)

I.

We were lying in bed. She, facing the wall on a little mound, and I was lying next to a little table. Only two words can be said about me: Protruding ears. She knew everything.

II. Is it a fork? Or an angel? Or one hundred rubles? It’s Nona. The fork is too small. An angel is too tall. The money ran out long ago. And Nona—that’s her. She alone is Nona. There were six Nonas and she is one of them.

III.

A dog in a small hat came up. Footsteps resounded and bathed. A fly was opening windows. Let’s look out the window!

IV.

In the window there is nothing to see. I don’t see anything, do you? I see skis. And who is on the skis? A soldier is on the skis and he has a belt over his shoulder, though he himself doesn’t have belt on.

1930

A Rose Blooming

Walking plant, you catch
yourself one of the speeches,

the abjured aster
here joins in,

if one who
smashed the canticles

were now to speak to the staff
his and everyone's
blinding would be revoked.

Paul Celan, trans. Michael Hamburger