Eratio


 

 

 

Two Works by Shota Iatashvili

 

in translation by David Chikhladze

 

 

 

 

Flashing

 

written in Georgian, translated by David Chikhladze

 

 

People were arguing in the street.

The patrol car was flashing.

 

People were arguing in the street.

The patrol car was

Flashing.

 

People

Were

Arguing in the street.

The

Patrol

Car

Was

Flashing.

 

People were flashing.

And the patrol car was arguing in the street.

 

People were

Flashing.

And the patrol car

Was arguing in the street.

 

People were

Flashing.

And the patrol car

Was arguing in the street.

 

People

Were

Flashing.

And the patrol car

Was

Flashing.

 

 

People were flashing.

And the patrol car

Was flashing

 

And flashing.

 

People were

Flashing.

And the car

Was flashing too.

 

 

People were flashing.

And the car was flashing too.

 

And I was standing on my balcony

And I was flashing.

 

I was standing

On my balcony

And I was flashing.

 

I was standing on my balcony and I was flashing.

 

I was standing on my balcony and I was flashing.

 

 

Or:

 

People were flashing.

The car was flashing.

I was flashing.

 

And above,

The stars were trying hard

To flash

 

Like

We

Were

Flashing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tristichs of my cities

 

written in Russian, translated by David Chikhladze

 

 

Rotterdam

 

The first purchase — is an umbrella.
The last — is a ticket to Paris.
The rest dissolves in listening to metaphors.

 

 

 

Paris

 

What to mark out?
All is a miracle here,
Even sex with wife.

 

 

 

Lyons

 

I was too lazy to get up so early.
So I rolled over and fell back asleep again.
I did not see what kind of city it was.

 

 

 

Lisbon

 

We saw everything through the car glass.

Only sometimes, we were getting out and they showed us

Where Pessoa was born, or wrote poems and died.

 

 

 

Porto

 

Old tram brought us to the ocean.
I look at the sky, covered with birds.
An hour ago, I wandered like a shadow between the sarcophagi in the shrine.

 

 

 

Bucharest

 

Dressed up in European style civilized gypsy women

Sit in a café and talk about life,

Like tourists and the rest of the population.

 

 

 

Istanbul

 

Look, with what diligence they wash the sidewalks!

But the dirt here just as amazingly shines,

Like everything else.

 

 

 

Baku

 

Flames.

In an outdoor cafe we are drinking tea

And see how beautifully the earth is burning.

 

 

 

Simferopol

 

I used to fly back and forth, hither and thither.

One girl sent me a letter a couple of times from there.

In the Soviet Union.

 

 

 

Alupka

 

I loved to show everyone the stone of Aivazovsky.

At night, I used to climb through the window of the sanatorium to get into my room.

And at the pond, with the swans, I was celebrating the overthrow of the State Committee for Emergency Situations.

 

 

 

Kiev

 

Only this city

Does not fit in a tristich form.

Or have I placed it already in it some way?

 

 

 

Moscow

 

“You do not look like a poet, you are too young!” —
said the policeman, and I remembered Pushkin,

already dead at my age.

 

 

 

Tula

 

I sat by the Kremlin and a woman told me a story.

I walked the streets, and the wind blew in my face.

And the name of the city is more beautiful than all the memories.

 

 

 

Leningrad

 

I did it straight, but ritually:

Bought collected works of Dostoevsky,

Although it could be bought at home.

 

 

 

Tbilisi

 

It is always confusing,

I can’t figure out

What to show guests here.

 

 

 

Batumi

 

And today,

Walking through this city,

I want to hold on to my mother’s hand.

 

 

 

Tallinn

 

Taking pictures of national costumes,

                                                      sweets offered to all,

And strange road signs.

All this is found at every turn.

 

 

 

Riga

 

We went down to the river and talked about math.

We did not kiss and did not even touch each other.

Then dawn broke, and she ran to her bus.

 

 

 

Vilnius

 

Hedgehog in the garden of the campus.

We had no money and decided to sell it,

But it turned out that the nearest zoo is located only in Kaunas.

 

 

 

Amsterdam

 

Female breast on impressionist’s canvas.

Female breast on the street of the Red Light District.

And in the evening in the neat park mother feeds the child.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shota Iatashvili is a poet, fiction writer, translator and art critic.  In 2007 and 2011 he won the SABA Prize, Georgia’s most prestigious awardHe is currently editor-in-chief of the literary journal, Akhali Saunje.  Shota Iatashvili at the Georgian National Book Center.  

 

David Chikhladze is a poet and theatre artist.  He has translated numerous works by American poets and theoreticians.  In 1989 he founded Tbilisi’s first independent gallery, Alternative Art Gallery.  Since 1994 he has been directing Tbilisi’s Margo Korableva Performance Theatre.  David is the author of Sanzona Girls (E·ratio Editions, 2015).  David Chikhladze at the Georgian National Book Center.  

 

 


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