LAST PSALM

By Constantin Acosmei

Translated by Gene Tanta

Beard of BeesChicago

Number 33June, 2006

Contents

Preface iii

THE END 1

COMEDY 2

A MAN’S STORY 3

MALE DICAT 4

ARS AMANDI 5

TAEDIUM VITAE 6

THE LAST PSALM 7

BURIAL 8

i

“ARS AMANDI” previously appeared inColumbia Poetry Reviewand“MALE DICAT” previously appeared inCircumference Magazine.

ii

Preface

I lived in Iasi, Romania in 2001 for six months visiting the Romanian poetMirela Ramona Ciupag (now my wife). During this time I met Constantin Acosmeithrough an underground Moldovan literary group entitled Club 8. Struck by Mr.Acosmei’s desperate, lucid, and darkly generous verse, I took up the martial actof translation. I feel gratified to see this act of cultural and linguistic violenceconsidered publishable.

iii

THE END

(I uncover and lift myself from the mattressI stretch and grab the socket and seizethe light-bulb with one end of the scarfaround my neck — and I turn it and I make it go out)

SFIRSIT

(ma dezvelesc si ma ridic de pe salteama ıntind si apuc dulia si cuprindbecul cu un capat al fularului dela gıt — si ıl ınvırt si ıl sting)

1

COMEDY

(I climbed and straddled the window sillswinging my bare footabove the street

with my left hand I held a dead rabbitby the ears and thenI hit the breaks)

COMEDIE

(ma suisem calare pe fereastraımi leganam piciorul descultdeasupra strazii

cu mına stınga tineam deurechi un iepure mort si atunciam pus frına)

2

A MAN’S STORY

One evening I was walking hurriedly on the sidewalk, following my pouted coun-tenance in the store windows decorated with stockings and underwear. As I go toturn the corner with some speed, I was jarred by a hard collision. Before me lay awoman splayed on the asphalt face up. Her lips were murmuring a long curse. Iwatched how her right leg floundered — a piece of plaster had crumbled off anduncovered a patch of yellow ankle, swelled. I gathered up her crutches from theground and helped her to her feet. As my palms were brushing her thighs of plas-ter debris, I felt inside a pocket of her dress some ordinary biscuits, and my jawsclenched with relish.

RELATAREA UNUI B ARBAT

Intr-o seara mergeam repede pe trotuar, urmarindu-mi chipul bosumflatın vitrineleımpodobite cu ciorapi si chiloti. Cınd am dat coltulın viteza, m-a zdruncinat oizbitura puternica. In fata mea zacea o femeie trıntita pe asfalt cu fataın sus.Buzele ei murmurau o lunga ınjuratura. Priveam cum i se zvırcoleste picioruldrept — o bucata de ghips se sfarımase si dezvelea un petic de glezna galbena,obrintita. I-am cules cırjele de pe jos si am ajutat-o sa se ridiceın picioare. Intimp ce palmele meleıi stergeau coapsele de moloz, am simtitın buzunarul de larochie cıtiva biscuiti obisnuiti, si atunci mi s-auınclestat falcile de pofta.

3

MALE DICAT

(every night beforeshutting off the light I go into the kitchenwith the thought of turning on the gasbut instead I run the taptake a glass rinse it drinkand I shudder in disgust — I think“ there in the broad ocean,on a large strip of skyno bird has ever flown”)

MALE DICAT

(ın fiecare noapteınainte de astinge lumina intruın bucatariecu gındul sa dau drumul la gazpına la urma dau drumul la apaiau un paharıl clatesc apoi beausi ma clatin de sila ma gındesc“acoloın largul oceanuluipe o mare fısie de cer nu azburat niciodata o pasare”)

4

ARS AMANDI

(I closed my jaw by handand I stuck the tip of my tongue one at a timein all of the holes in my molars

then you stretched out your hand and startedto jumble my hair — and theneverything around was covered by dandruff)

ARS AMANDI

(mi-amınchis falcile cu mınasi mi-am vırıt pe rınd vırful limbiiın toate sparturile din masele

atunci aiıntins mına si aiınceputsa ımi ıncılcesti parul — apoitotul ın jur s-a acoperit de matreata)

5

TAEDIUM VITAE

(I’m blind with sleep and I’m watching the sunI can just bet you I won’t diethis yearI woke up with the light onI unlocked the door I went out into the courtyardI didn’t feel like washing my faceI’ll wait for it to get darkA long life is stalking me— an entangled intestine whichmy entire body cannot stop-up —I remember how a headless hen will flyin the grass)

TAEDIUM VITAE

(sınt chior de somn si ma uit la soarepot sa pariez ca nu voi murianul acestam-am trezit cu becul aprinsam descuiat usa am iesitın ogradan-am avut chef sa ma spal pe ochiastept sa seıntuneceo viata lunga ma pındeste— un intestinıncılcit pe care trupulmeuıntreg nu poate sa-l ınfunde —ımi amintesc cum zboara prin iarbao gaina fara cap)

6

THE LAST PSALM

(— why should I still be sad?with my cough I could sweep the whole streetso death could take off her shoes at the end of itand come this way with her shoes in her handbashfully looking down

exactly —why should I still be sad?god has made himself a couple of testamentsand he is still at itsmiting those poorest of his relatives

and I say with them —“ this crazy old man whostuffs and stuffs his file cabinets with testamentswill inherit us all”)

ULTIMUL PSALM

(— de ce sa mai fiu trist?cu tusea mea as matura o strada ıntreagasa se descalte moartea la capatul eisa vina ıncoace cu pantofiiın mınaprivind sfioasa numaiın jos

chiar asa — de ce sa mai fiu trist?dumnezeu si-a facut cıteva testamentepına acum si tot o mai duce lefaceın ciuda rudelor sarace de tot

zic si euımpreuna cu ele —“mosneagulasta smintit careumple sertarele cu testamenteare sa ne mosteneasca pe toti”)

7

BURIAL

One day someone was found dead in his room. On the table lay a piece of paper onwhich he had written his last wish. A few hours later his wish was fulfilled. A mandug with a spade a deep hole near the fence, in which he threw the stripped body.Above it he built an outhouse out of boards, covered it with a rusted tin-plate.

INMORM INTARE

Intr-o zi a fost gasit mortın camera lui. Pe masa era o hırtie pe careısi scriseseultima dorinta. Cıteva ore mai tırziu aceasta a fostındeplinita. Un om a sapat cuhırletul lınga gard o groapa adınca, ın care a aruncat trupul despuiat. Deasupra eia construit un veceu din scınduri, acoperit cu o coala de tabla ruginita.

8

CONSTANTIN ACOSMEI was born in Tirgu Neamt, Romania. He holds a BA anda Master’s degree in Literature and French from The University of Letters in Iasi,Romania. Mr. Acosmei lives and works as a librarian in Iasi (northeast Romania).

Born in Timisoara, Romania in 1974, GENE TANTA immigrated to Chicago in1984 with family. He earned his MFA in Poetry from the Iowa’s Writers’ Work-shop in 2000. He also translates contemporary Romanian poetry and makes visualart with found materials. Mr. Tanta’s Publications include:Epoch, Ploughshares,Circumference Magazine, Exquisite Corpse, Watchword, Columbia Poetry Re-view, and two collaborative poems with Reginald Shepherd inIndiana Review.Currently, he is a Ph.D. student in Creative Writing (Poetry) at the University ofWisconsin at Milwaukee where he is also the Art Editor forCream City Review.

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