{"id":30915,"date":"2017-07-07T20:45:32","date_gmt":"2017-07-07T20:45:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/?p=30915"},"modified":"2017-07-07T20:45:32","modified_gmt":"2017-07-07T20:45:32","slug":"marty-smith-poduri-lirice-poetical-bridges-poeme-bilingve","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/2017\/07\/07\/marty-smith-poduri-lirice-poetical-bridges-poeme-bilingve\/","title":{"rendered":"Marty Smith: Poduri Lirice – Poetical Bridges (poeme bilingve)"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>Marty Smith a crescut \u00eentr-o zon\u0103 deluroas\u0103 din nordul Wairarapa, \u00eentre Pahiatua \u015fi mare. \u00cei place s\u0103 observe via\u0163a oamenilor care\u00a0 muncesc din greu. Cartea de poezie cu care debuteaz\u0103, \u201eCal cu p\u0103l\u0103rie\u201d, <\/em>prezint\u0103 problemele pe care le au solda\u0163ii \u00een urma misiunilor pe care le-au \u00eendeplinit \u00een r\u0103zboi, adesea exprimate prin rela\u0163ii familiale tensionate; cartea vorbe\u015fte, de asemenea, despre rela\u0163ia de lung\u0103 durat\u0103 \u00eentre cai \u015fi oameni. Ea face cercetare pentru urm\u0103toarea ei carte la hipodromul\u00a0 Hawke\u2019s Bay. De asemenea este profesoar\u0103 cu jum\u0103tate de norm\u0103, la Liceul Taradale. Marty consider\u0103 c\u0103 cea mai bun\u0103 scriere rezult\u0103 prin asumarea unor riscuri \u015fi c\u0103 poemele trebuie s\u0103 fie inspirate de o emo\u0163ie puternic\u0103 \u015fi adev\u0103rat\u0103, altfel fiind doar cuvinte frumoase.<\/p>\n

\n

Cartea \u201eCal cu p\u0103l\u0103rie\u201d<\/em> a c\u00e2\u015ftigat Premiul \u201eMackey Jesse\u201d pentru cel mai bun debut \u00een poezie \u00een cadrul Premiilor pentru Carte \u00een Noua Zeeland\u0103 \u00een 2014 \u015fi a fost finalist\u0103 \u00een categoria poezie a acelora\u015fi premii.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

***<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Marty Smith grew up in remote hill country in North Wairarapa between Pahiatua and the sea. She likes to look at the lives of people who do tough work. Her debut poetry collection\u00a0\u201eHorse with hat\u201d<\/em>\u00a0looks at the fallout from the work soldiers had to do in war, often expressed through tense family relationships; it also talks to the long relationship between horses and men.\u00a0 She is carrying out research for her next book at the Hawke\u2019s Bay racecourse, while teaching part-time at Taradale High School. Marty believes that the best writing comes out of taking risks, and that poems should be driven by a strong and true emotion otherwise they are just pretty words.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201eHorse with Hat\u201d<\/em>\u00a0won the Jesse Mackay Award for Best First Book of Poetry in the New Zealand Book Awards 2014, and was a finalist in the poetry category of the same awards.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

P\u0102L\u0102RIE* <\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Tata nu concepea s\u0103 fie v\u0103zut<\/p>\n

f\u0103r\u0103 p\u0103l\u0103rie.<\/p>\n

P\u0103l\u0103rie de fermier, p\u0103l\u0103rie de soare, p\u0103l\u0103rie de ora\u015f<\/p>\n

chiar c\u00e2nd \u00eenc\u0103 avea p\u0103r.<\/p>\n

\n

P\u0103l\u0103rie pe-o parte, p\u0103l\u0103rie pe cal<\/p>\n

p\u0103l\u0103rie \u00een camionul cu c\u00e2ini.<\/p>\n

\n

Pe ascuns noi am pescuit<\/p>\n

urm\u0103rind p\u0103str\u0103vii<\/p>\n

cu o suli\u0163\u0103 \u015fi o lumin\u0103.<\/p>\n

Pe \u00eentuneric p\u0103l\u0103ria lui am purtat-o.<\/p>\n

\n

La o mil\u0103 distan\u0163\u0103 de drumul de \u0163ar\u0103<\/p>\n

a locuit bunica mea<\/p>\n

pe jum\u0103tatea ei de ferm\u0103.<\/p>\n

Nici vorb\u0103 de \u00eent\u00e2lniri \u00eent\u00e2mpl\u0103toare, nici m\u0103car<\/p>\n

o siluet\u0103 la orizont.<\/p>\n

\n

Ea a\u015ftepta \u00een ora\u015f<\/p>\n

urm\u0103rind<\/p>\n

din galanterie<\/p>\n

cum noi pe strad\u0103 treceam.<\/p>\n

A ie\u015fit ca din \u00eent\u00e2mplare.<\/p>\n

Cu m\u00e2na fragil\u0103, str\u00e2ng\u00e2ndu-\u015fi<\/p>\n

pardesiul,<\/p>\n

ne-a aruncat o sfioas\u0103 privire<\/p>\n

din pungile ochilor ei de copoi—<\/p>\n

p\u00e2n\u0103 \u015fi aerul s-a oprit.<\/p>\n

\n

el \u015fi-a ridicat p\u0103l\u0103ria \u015fi a mers mai departe.<\/p>\n

————————–<\/p>\n

(Cal cu p\u0103l\u0103rie<\/em>, Victoria University Press, 2014)<\/p>\n

*Marty Smith comenteaz\u0103: \u201eTat\u0103l meu nu a vorbit cu bunica 18 ani, apoi el a murit primul\u201c.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

HAT<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Dad wouldn\u2019t be seen dead<\/em><\/p>\n

without a hat.<\/em><\/p>\n

Farm hat, summer hat, town hat<\/em><\/p>\n

even when he had hair.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Hat on angle, hat on horse,<\/em><\/p>\n

hat in truck with dogs.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

We fished by stealth<\/em><\/p>\n

stalked trout<\/em><\/p>\n

with a spear and a light.<\/em><\/p>\n

We wore his hat in the dark.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

A mile away by metal road<\/em><\/p>\n

my grandmother lived<\/em><\/p>\n

on her half of the farm.<\/em><\/p>\n

No chance meetings, not even<\/em><\/p>\n

a skyline sighting.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

She lay in wait in town<\/em><\/p>\n

watched<\/em><\/p>\n

from the haberdashery<\/em><\/p>\n

as we walked up the street.<\/em><\/p>\n

She came out as if by accident.<\/em><\/p>\n

Hand frail, and clasping<\/em><\/p>\n

the front of her coat,<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

she gave a coy look<\/em><\/p>\n

from the bags of her bloodhound<\/em><\/p>\n

eyes–<\/em><\/p>\n

the whole air stopped<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

he raised his hat, went past.<\/em><\/p>\n

—————————-<\/em><\/p>\n

(Horse with Hat, Victoria University Press, 2014)<\/em><\/p>\n

Marty Smith comments: \u2018My father didn\u2019t speak to my grandmother for eighteen years, then he died first.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n

\n

\n

FRUCTUL PASIUNII <\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Primul fruct conservat o mic\u0103 bucurie verde.<\/p>\n

Ce limpede este lumina, printre frunze<\/p>\n

\u015fi cincizeci de ani – Uite, spune Dar<\/p>\n

\u00eendep\u0103rt\u00e2nd c\u00e2rceii,<\/p>\n

uit\u0103-te la floare. Este povestea lui Hristos<\/p>\n

\u015fi a Pasiunii, uite –\u00a0 arat\u0103 ea spre cruce<\/p>\n

punctele pufoase, marginea ciufulit\u0103.<\/p>\n

Z\u00e2mbesc pentru ea, singuratica bunic\u0103<\/p>\n

afar\u0103 \u00een frig, cresc\u00e2nd c\u0103p\u015funi,<\/p>\n

zmeur\u0103, agri\u015fe. Le protejeaz\u0103 cu plase.<\/p>\n

Ea vrea s\u0103-mi m\u0103n\u00e2nce trupul, s\u0103-mi bea s\u00e2ngele.<\/p>\n

————————–<\/p>\n

(Cal cu p\u0103l\u0103rie<\/em>, Victoria University Press, 2014)<\/p>\n

\n

PASSIONFRUIT<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

The first fruit jarred a small green joy.<\/em><\/p>\n

How clean the light is, through the leaves<\/em><\/p>\n

and fifty years – Look, Dar says,<\/em><\/p>\n

drawing back the tendrils,<\/em><\/p>\n

look at the flower. It\u2019s the story of Christ<\/em><\/p>\n

and the Passion, there – she points at the cross<\/em><\/p>\n

the fluffy dots, the ruffled edge.<\/em><\/p>\n

I smile for her, lonely grandmother<\/em><\/p>\n

out in the cold, growing strawberries<\/em><\/p>\n

raspberries, gooseberries. She keeps nets.<\/em><\/p>\n

She wants to eat my body, drink my blood.<\/em><\/p>\n

—————————-<\/em><\/p>\n

(Horse with Hat, Victoria University Press, 2014)<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

SLAVA N\u00c3RILOR LUI E COLOSAL\u00c3<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Caii nu dorm.<\/p>\n

Noaptea stau \u00een picioare deasupra lumii.<\/p>\n

\n

Cum venirea lor a fost \u00eenceputul nostru,<\/p>\n

P\u0103m\u00e2ntul re\u0163ine caii ca o aducere aminte<\/p>\n

\n

deoarece calul are imen\u015fi limpezi ochi<\/p>\n

\u00een capul de pies\u0103 de \u015fah<\/p>\n

\n

calul cu coama \u015fi coapsa lui<\/p>\n

a\u015fa cum st\u0103 ca un cavaler de straj\u0103.<\/p>\n

\n

Calul de bronz scoate fum pe nas<\/p>\n

love\u015fte copitele, love\u015fte copitele de pe soclul s\u0103u.<\/p>\n

\n

Carele cailor ro\u015fii, carele cailor negri de cavalerie<\/p>\n

se ciocnesc, r\u00e2nduri \u00eentregi de cai se pr\u0103bu\u015fesc.<\/p>\n

\n

Ochiul lui rotindu-se alb \u00een scobitura lui<\/p>\n

calul tr\u0103g\u00e2nd un vagon f\u0103r\u0103 c\u0103l\u0103re\u0163.<\/p>\n

\n

Am creat ma\u015fini care-\u015fi conduc inimile<\/p>\n

de acum, ora\u015fele noastre s\u0103 str\u0103luceasc\u0103 noaptea.<\/p>\n

\n

Cele mai frumoase culori deja au disp\u0103rut<\/p>\n

sau exist\u0103 unde nimeni nu le poate vedea<\/p>\n

\u015fi acum calul a plecat \u00eenapoi, p\u0103r\u0103sindu-ne.<\/p>\n

———————————<\/p>\n

(Cal cu p\u0103l\u0103rie<\/em>, Victoria University Press, 2014)<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

THE GLORY OF HIS NOSTRILS IS TERRIBLE<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Horses do not sleep.<\/em><\/p>\n

At night stay stand up over the world.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Since their coming was our beginning,<\/em><\/p>\n

Earth retains the horse as a rememberer<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

for the horse has huge clear eyes<\/em><\/p>\n

in the chess-piece head<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

the horse with his crest and his haunch<\/em><\/p>\n

as he stands like a knight on watch.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

The bronze horse blows smoke from his nose<\/em><\/p>\n

pounds his hooves pounds his hooves on his plinth.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Chariots of red horses chariots of black horses<\/em><\/p>\n

cavalry clashes, whole ranks of horse collapsing.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

His eye rolling white in its socket<\/em><\/p>\n

the horse dragging a riderless wagon.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

We have devised machines that drive their own hearts<\/em><\/p>\n

for now, our cities shine through the night.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

The loveliest colours have already disappeared<\/em><\/p>\n

or exist where no one can see them<\/em><\/p>\n

and now the horse has turned back, leaving us.<\/em><\/p>\n

————————————————————–<\/em><\/p>\n

(Horse with Hat, Victoria University Press, 2014)<\/em><\/p>\n

———————————-<\/strong><\/p>\n

* Translated by Valentina Teclici<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

\n

\n

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Marty Smith a crescut \u00eentr-o zon\u0103 deluroas\u0103 din nordul Wairarapa, \u00eentre Pahiatua \u015fi mare. \u00cei place s\u0103 observe via\u0163a oamenilor [&hellip<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-30915","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articole"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30915","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=30915"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30915\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":30918,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30915\/revisions\/30918"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=30915"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=30915"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.marianagurza.ro\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=30915"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}