The Leveret (Threnody) (major rev.2)

[serge gurkski]

Après la chasse sauvage
nous nous sommes assis,
les chasseurs et leurs chiens,
autour d'un animal
sacrifié à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue.


After the wild hunt,
we, hunters and dogs,
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now.

We had run with the hare, hunting with the hounds:
My dog had killed the hare I had to bury now.
My dog, who'd killed the hare, she had to bury now
my anger with her licks.



Eyes dark, neck broken, flesh warm: He lay still.
I carried in my arms of pity his carcass
to a grave of wet leaves
but could not let slip off yet a life
that had left the world too soon,
and rich was the night; the death
I touched, was teasing me:
"Follow me, soft lover! Maybe?"
"May it be, may it be so!
So, may it be so … yet?"
"Follow me!
It's easy."


Als ich den Kadaver des Häschens sanft
auf die regennasse Erde bettete
und mein Ohr an seine Brust presste,
betend, dass es doch noch lebte,
vielleicht noch nicht gestorben sei,
sondern nur so tat
um seinen grausamen
Jägern zu entfliehen,
da wurde mir zum ersten Mal
bewusst, wie schmal der Grad
zwischen „Werden“, „Sein“,
„Gewesen“ ist.


When I laid down to last rest
the leveret's body on the ground,
drowning in rain,
and put my ear to his chest,
praying that he still would be alive,
that he just pretended being dead
to escape his gruesome hunters,
for the first time I realised
how small the bridge between "become",
"to be" and "not exist",
how small it really is.


--------------------------------------------------------------

Ode to a dead leveret (rev.1: billy, tec, brownlie, heart)

Eyes dark,
neck broken,
flesh warm,
still he lay.
In my arms
I carried
his carcass
to a grave of wet leaves
but could not yet
let slip away
a life lost
so recently.
Rich was the night.
The touch of death
was teasing
softly:
follow me!
It's easy.

--------------------------------------------------------------
Original: ODE TO A DEAD YOUNG HARE

S1

eyes dark broken
flesh warm still
he lay
I carried in my arms
of pity the warm body
to a grave of wet leaves but
couldn't let go off yet a life that
had left the world so recently
and
rich was the night the death
I touched felt warm ... teasing
follow me soft lover
teasing me
maybe
may it be
may it be so
so, may it be so
yet?

(or not yet?)

S2

to run with the hare hunting with the hounds a-howling

Après la chasse sauvage
nous nous sommes assis
les chasseurs et leurs chiens
autour d'un animal
sacrifié
à la rigolade
d'une nuit perdue

After the wild hunt
we hunters and dogs
sat around the victim
we had sacrificed
to a night of laughter
gone by now

my dog had killed the hare I had to bury now
my dog who'd killed the hare she had to bury now
my anger with her licks

S3

Als ich den Kadaver des Häschens sanft
auf die regennasse Erde bettete
und mein Ohr an seine Brust presste
betend dass es doch noch lebte
vielleicht noch nicht gestorben sei
sondern nur so tat
um seinen grausamen
Jägern zu entfliehen
da wurde mir zum ersten Mal
bewusst wie schmal
der Grad
zwischen Werden Sein
und Gewesensein doch ist


When I laid down to last rest
the rabbit's carcass on the ground
drowned in rain
and put my ear to his chest
praying he still would be alive
that he just pretended being dead
to escape his gruesome hunters
for the first time
I did realise how small
the bridge between to be
and not exist
how small it really is.