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Poetry

Pastoral

By Max Blecher
Translated from Romanian by Victor Pambuccian

An expansion of plants with water fingers
Drink this and look
The laced skirts of raw milk
The subterranean giants drowned in the azure
And lakes open mouths have remained frozen
Four oxen under a tree, defying reality
Kneel down and adorn their horns
With flowers of deadly nightshade
Through clouds passes the perfection of weeping
And young lambs suck teats of rain
The planet of sleep settles over fields
The spring’s current carries last reflexes
Like the last words of a dying man
While you’re witching around, I see
With the ornate and fatal little bones of
Our love.

Translation of “Pastoralã.” Published 1934. Translation copyright 2008 by Victor Pambuccian. All rights reserved.

English

An expansion of plants with water fingers
Drink this and look
The laced skirts of raw milk
The subterranean giants drowned in the azure
And lakes open mouths have remained frozen
Four oxen under a tree, defying reality
Kneel down and adorn their horns
With flowers of deadly nightshade
Through clouds passes the perfection of weeping
And young lambs suck teats of rain
The planet of sleep settles over fields
The spring’s current carries last reflexes
Like the last words of a dying man
While you’re witching around, I see
With the ornate and fatal little bones of
Our love.

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