Adolph And Eva - Poem by Katie Tutberidze
How futile the prayer you say every evening
Or at six in the morning in the ashy light!
Like scattering five grains on arid ground,
Asking for help through the door of a deserted hut.
The words are plastered like gelatin on the tongue —
Sofrighte ning, this language of the enemy,
As if the knives of forty lipsare cutting you,
As if a scythe is waved over you two hundred times in the grasslands.
Toss and turn at night!
Do not be afraid of the wind's howling
Like a transfusion machine brought for you—it makes you old, it poisons you.
Listen, iron houses start hissing in the south,
Destination — Flossenbürg, or somewhere in the north or closer…
They are blowing, almost whirling away from the rail.
It's not important if hundreds are crushed like rats,
Infants attached to sagging breasts,
A woman with hair as brown as hardwood,
Who yesterday was washing dishes outside her house,
Drying grimy hands on her slim hips.
But we are satisfied.
Like cyanide, we are holding our consciences between our gums.
God or Man? ! Without a frame, without a cross, with fear of death!
You still live, -
Loveless, sick, round-shouldered,
Keeping watch on the lechery of my barren womb,
Dropping at night as if it is wax,
Melting down and turning into a different statue.
I do not feel pleasure; I just inhabit your ear
And I whisper there,
I am dividing words into syllables—a sort of incantation,
That sometimes looks like a curse. Fears thrive in it.
When it yields, it means you've lost sleep.
And this candelabrum captures the shade of the room.
You are like this all night long, enduring pain,
Eating your joints, gnawing at your fingers and I'm nearby,
With cherry-colored butterflies on my chest,
Stunned by sleep
With my pupils dilated.
You ask me: "From which side did the cold enter here?
Who dragged it in? "—I shrug my shoulders.
But it is the crack over there, the one our chimera-love looks through,
Rubbing diamond-sparkle eyes, digging in to it with claws.
And I reply, they have filled this crack with lime and glass,
Those who bite big toes in fear,
Those who see their absence only in light,
Those whose eyes are filled with rotten corpses,
Those who hate you.
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