Yana Kane
The tenth sister
For Bruce Esrig
She has a family resemblance
to each of the myth-crowned nine,
yet blends in easily among the mortals:
an owlish, quiet woman,
neither voluptuously young,
nor venerably old.
At first,
I didn’t recognize her visitations —
just went where she led me —
and didn’t know that I followed a call.
With time,
I understood: translating poetry
takes more than wordcraft.
Hard work, persistence are the invitation,
the prayer for her gift,
that sudden gust that lifts a poem’s substance
across the chasm of the impossible.
But there’s no summoning her at will.
I used to think that her soft-spoken manner
came from a soft temperament,
a sheltered, bookish life.
I was mistaken.
Now,
when translation is a search and rescue mission,
when I’m stumbling, calling for the living
amidst the wreckage of a language torn by war;
when I’m among the ones
who’re listening and digging for the voices
buried by landslides of deception,
choked by grief,
her purposeful presence steadies
my shaking fingers
as she hands me
a needed word, a phrase:
“Here, try out this one.”
The Enemy (English translation by Yana Kane)
Kristina Zeytounian-Belous
Кристина Зейтунян-Белоус
I was ready to take on anything
just to destroy the enemy
I let go of mercy and decency
just to destroy the enemy
sent my son to the slaughter
just to destroy the enemy
blinkered and duped my nation
just to destroy the enemy
razed hundreds of towns to the ground
just to destroy the enemy
spilled human blood in torrents
just to destroy the enemy
dying I finally saw it
I am the enemy