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 award. He 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.
