Read an Excerpt

The Joyful Man Franz 
the joyful man Franz                                      
maintained protuberance from start to finish he never came down the porch                       
measured stars named flowers                        
believed I am you       
affixing number to time humming in rhyme he died and was deceased like the shotgun and the cyst frightened, he would see a skirt                                              
as he fantasized asleep and would sail at the helm to a melancholy elm                                       
where squads of beetles          
performed about-faces showed their mustaches to gods pronounced themselves to be clocks              
gods howled out of tune and tumbled down from the moon there in luxurious grass an ant was being stamped and the glowworm, unkind king lit up a large lamp       
silently the lightnings flashed languid animals snorted                                  
unhurriedly growled    
the waves that lay on the sand           
where? where did all this happen where did this location roam
I forgot, the sun will say sinking into the unknown all we see is the exit    
from the schoolbag of Franz of the contemporary of man the psychologist of the divine this wizard announces the party begins idle stars crowd in boring people smoke  
lonely thoughts run around everything is sad and pointless
God what kind of party is this it’s the christmas of death or something hens step around gulfs the hall hops with cupids and the iron steam-engine meditates upon cow-patties
Franz awoke from his nightmare why are all these things here?
the valet stood here like a palm before the meadows of eternity short as a reed the collar sleeps upon a chair a branch of kerosene overlooks the twilight answer me wizard is this a dream? I’m a fool but where is that wizard where is the psychologist of the divine he counts songs in his sleep growing bald as a tree he can’t come here where the real world stands he calmly multiplies the shades he does not shimmer in the sky
Turks give me my carriage the joyful Franz called give me the rocket of Oberth give me horsepower
I will ride around the world in this fascinating cab
I will orchestrate a race of the star with the prisoner earth touch the ceiling with my head
I’m a bluebird I’m […]
meanwhile out of the acute night                               
out of the abyss of the bad dream                              
appears a crown                                              
and the ramified scythe you’re an irate serpent my childless death hello Franz will sadly say                                            
each of your hairs holds more thoughts than a pot more sleep than a powder take out your saber and slice open my shirt then slice open my skin          
glue me to the bed                                          
all the same shall learning triumph                 
I’ll announce as I gurgle and create a grandson my substitute in the form of a lamp he will stand and glow write essays for school death said you are a flower and fled to the east
Franz remained alone to contemplate protuberance measure stars name flowers compose I and you lying in absolute silence in the empty heights               
 
1929-1930
[Trans. Ostashevsky]
 
 

Snow Lies 
snow lies earth flies lights flip in pigments night has come on a rug of stars it lies is it night or a demon?
like an inane lever sleeps the insane river it is not aware of the moon everywhere animals gnash their canines in black gold cages animals bang their heads animals are the ospreys of saints the world flies around the universe in the vicinity of stars dashes deathless like a swallow seeks a home a nest there’s no nest a hole the universe is alone maybe rarely in flight time will pass as poor as night or a daughter in a bed will grow sleepy and then dead then a crowd of relations will rush in and cry alas in steel houses will howl loudly she’s gone and buried hopped to paradise big-bellied
God God have pity good God on the precipice but God said Go play and she entered paradise there spun any which way numbers houses and seas the inessential exists in vain, they perceived there God languished behind bars with no eyes no legs no arms so that maiden in tears sees all this in the heavens sees various eagles appear out of night and fly inane and flash insane this is so depressing the dead maiden will say serenely surprised
God will say what’s depressing what’s depressing, God, life what are you talking about what O noon do you know you press pleasure and Paris to your breast like two pears you swell like music you’re swell like a statue then the wood howled in final despair it spies through the tares a meandering ribbon little ribbon a crate curvy Lena of fate
Mercury was in the air spinning like a top and the bear sunned his coat people also walked around bearing fish on a platter bearing on their hands ten fingers on a ladder while all this went on that maiden rested rose from the dead and forgot yawned and said you guys, I had a dream what can it mean dreams are worse than macaroni they make crows double over
I was not at all dying
I was gaping and lying undulating and crying
I was so terrifying a fit of lethargy was had by me among the effigies let’s enjoy ourselves really let’s gallop to the cinema and she sped off like an ass to satisfy her innermost lights glint in the heaven is it night or a demon
                        January 1930
[Trans. Ostashevsky]