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Lidia Vianu - Director of CTITC (CENTRE FOR THE TRANSLATION AND INTERPRETATION OF THE CONTEMPORARY TEXT), Bucharest University, Professor of Contemporary British Literature at the English Department of Bucharest University, Member of the Writers’ Union, Romania.

 

 
 
 
 
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CTITC

CENTRE FOR THE TRANSLATION AND INTERPRETATION OF THE CONTEMPORARY TEXT
CENTRUL PENTRU TRADUCEREA SI INTERPRETAREA TEXTULUI CONTEMPORAN

 

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 TRANSLATION CAF… 


 

MTTLC
MA Programme for the

TRANSLATION OF THE CONTEMPORARY LITERARY TEXT

Review of Contemporary Texts in Translation and E-Learning

 

 

 

 

Mary MacRae

Life Story


Night, and you step out into blackness, over
the side of the silent vessel, dreading that you
or your boots might slip and miss the rung, one
false move your last. Between above and below
you hang breathless, locked into history—
and this is what you chose, what you want.

No moon, no stars—though light’s not what you want—
only a sound like a thumb rubbing over
corrugated card as the men in your story
run down the ladder, loaded with kit. And you
feel rather than see, where the man below
you wavers, shifts his pack, now there’s no-one.

‘Dropped like a stone,’ I hear you say, ‘just one
splash and he’d gone.’ A small smile. You want
to cry, can’t quite believe the man below
the water wasn’t you, rehearse it over
and over again to convince yourself that you
survived the war, came home to tell your story.

It comes back to me now: hearing your story
I saw what you saw, clear as glass, how someone
plummeted down, but whether it was you,
or him, or someone else, I didn’t want
to know. Slid through a door that closed over
his head, from dark above to dark below.

Whoever that man was who plunged below,
if you’re the secret sharer of his story
then I’m yours. And the story isn’t over;
when you dropped like a stone you left me one
part short, however much I wanted—want—
to understand the plot and why I miss you.

Taller than life, younger than in death, you
come to visit me now from way below
the spirit-level of dream; won’t speak. I want
to ask if you can love me—that old story—
but don’t; put my arms around you one
last time and say, I love you, over and over.

I conjured you from below by telling your story
and then I saw our two stories are one:
can I want yours to end before mine’s over?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Corina Nicoleta Iscru

Mary MacRae

Poveste de viata


E noapte, iar tu te afunzi in Óntuneric, peste
marginea vasului cufundat in tacere, inspaimantat ca tu
sau cizmele tale ar putea sa alunece si s„ nu nimereasc„ treapta, o
miscare gresita este ultima. Suspendat,
atarni fara suflare, inchis in istorie -
si asta este ce ai ales, ce ai vrut.

Fara luna, fara stele- desi lumina nu este ceea ce vrei -
doar un sunet asemenea unui deget care aluneca peste
o bara ondulata, asa cum barbatii din povestea ta
coboara scara, incarcati cu echipamente. Si tu
mai degraba simti decat vezi, unde barbatul de jos
tremura, schimba incarcatura, acum nu e nimeni.

„ Cazut ca o piatra,” te aud spunand „o singura
improscare si s-a dus.” Un mic zambet.Vrei
sa plangi, nu poti sa crezi ca omul de sub
apa nu ai fost tu, repeta asta incontinuu
pentru a te convinge ca tu
ai supravietuit razboiului, ai venit acasa sa-ti spui povestea.

Amintirile imi revin acum: ascultandu-ti povestea
Am vazut ce ai vazut si tu, clar precum sticla, cum cineva
s-a dus in jos, dar daca ai fost tu,
sau el, sau altcineva, nu am vrut
sa stiu. A alunecat printr-o usa care s-a inchis
in urma sa, de la intunericul de sus la cel de jos.

Oricine a fost acel barbat care s-a dus in jos,
si daca esti complicele secret al povestii lui,
atunci iti apartin. Si povestea nu s-a sfarsit;
cand ai cazut precum o piatra, ai luat o parte
din mine, oricat de mult am vrut- vreau -
sa inteleg subiectul si de ce imi lipsesti.

Mai inalt decat in viata, mai tanar decat an moarte, tu
vii acum sa ma vizitezi dintr-o lume
dincolo de spirit; nu voi vorbi. Vreau
sa te intreb daca ma poti iubi- acea poveste veche -
dar nu o face; pune-mi bratele in jurul tau
pentru o ultima data si spune, te iubesc, iar si iar.

Te-am invocat din adancuri spunand-ti povestea
si apoi am vazut ca povestile noastre sunt de fapt una:
pot sa-ti cer ca a ta sa se termine inainte ca a mea sa se fi sfarsit?
 

 

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