Anahit Hayrapetyan in translation: my opinion...

my opinion on your jazz your opinion on your jazz that i did not become for you another virgin whore

just one day

just one time

i spent with him

he hastily threatened not to recognize

my mouth did not even open

i’m worn-out

now i don’t get

don’t get don’t get a thing

longing caused nausea 

longing made me swallow my voice

i swallowed myself

only to go to his home

coffee

sex

then open the door

and

loved and kissed to go out go out say bye

go down the stairs go down the stairs go down the stairs

go down the stairs go down the stairs

when else the next time

i ask i am captive

just one ring

and running and running and running and running

go up the stairs go up the stairs go up the stairs go up the stairs

because you’re speechless

for you to come home from outside and understand

the reason of the killing headache

and bird my city needs bird

one day-old butterfly i died unborn

took your smell on my hair

took to the airport

took to the bathroom

what about the poetry, what about my poems, what about the unlived i lived

what about me what about me

adventure set against your nose

love your nose

odes to the beauty of nose

toast to nose

 with glass of cognac chink to the nose

kiss on the nose 

nose as a beginning to all sexual acts

no fingers

no tits

no

just as a habit something like having a meal

swindle

as though tested tricks

so dear and clear to whores

so naked and brave like them

so naked and lonely like them and pitiful like them 

sex machine slave mistress


i looked saw found

old saying of yard-stick

i’m sick of telling about my virginity

well this is my jazz, you know

well i have my own jazz, you know

everything is different from that in my brain

just to kiss my body

hold it tight and never give to anyone

has become a pain in a neck

i loathe myself

bung me bung me bung me

numerous secrets of city

go or i’ll rape

go down the stairs go down the stairs go down the stairs

birdie birdie come to me

let me kiss your kind body

i open the door you fly away

when i want you in you come in

birdie birdie, my kind birdie

let me be rested on your body

good night


Translated by Lusine Mkhitarian


News

'I like to use the languages of the various arts – literature, music, theatre...I think that is the spirit of the modern global era.'- poet Ivan Hristov spoke to SJ Fowler of 3AM magazine about the evolution of the contemporary Bulgarian poetry scene.

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Cosmin Borza discusses the work of Romania's 'Generation 2000' poets, including Radu Vancu and Claudiu Komartin in an essay at Asymptote.

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At the Sofia Poetics festival, which was organised by Word Express participant Ivan Hristov, Scottish based poet Ryan Van Winkle caught up with fellow festival guests SJ Fowler and Tomasz Rózycki. To hear Fowler and Rózycki discussing their work and reading some of their poetry, listen to the Scottish Poetry Library podcast here.

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