INSANI FATUM
When I was born
There were no angels waiting for me,
There were no magicians in the backyard,
No relatives present,
Not drunk prophets;
There was no one to draw
Beneficial lines in my birth chart
Or whoever reads in the golden placenta
Unique plots, unpublished destinations;
Ariadne, Virgil, Ovid were absent;
Only Sisyphus celebrated my arrival:
……………_ At last I will be replaced!
.
INSANI FATUM
Quando nasci não havia anjos a minha espera,
Não havia magos no quintal de casa,
Nem parentes presentes,
Nem bêbados profetas;
Não havia quem traçasse
Linhas benfazejas em meu mapa astral
Ou quem lesse na placenta áurea
Enredos singulares, destinos inéditos;
Ariadne, Virgílio, Ovídio ausentes estavam;
Apenas Sísifo celebrou a minha chegada:
……………_ Até que enfim serei sucedido!
.
THE NINE WORKS OF THE POET
Difficult to dream of utopias
when death at the threshold is;
Even more difficult is to rest your mind in therapeutic sleep
when in the lungs
an intruder prepares apneas;
Difficult to tolerate the presence of the other
when your hands are full of blood and debauchery are;
Difficult to dawn every morning
for the unhealthy day;
Hard to be what you are
when the different threat
the wicked spirit of the flock;
Difficult this now
full of past ghosts
marching noisily over the Agora;
Difficult to hold back the fire of indignation
against the violent fire of insult and slander;
Difficult to maintain a nirvanic dialogue
when the interlocutor is just samsara and naraka;
Difficult to be circumscribed in this biology
when one longs to be free and cosmic.
.
OS NOVE TRABALHOS DO POETA
Difícil sonhar com utopias
com a morte à soleira da porta;
Difícil mais ainda é descansar a mente no sono terapêutico
quando nos pulmões
um intruso prepara apneias;
Difícil tolerar a presença do outro
com suas mãos cheias de sangue e devassidão;
Difícil amanhecer toda manhã
para o dia que se desenha insalubre;
Difícil ser o que se é
quando o diferente ameaça
o perverso espírito de rebanho;
Difícil este agora
cheio de fantasmas passados
marchando ruidoso sobre a ágora;
Difícil reter o incêndio da indignação
contra o fogo violento do insulto e da calúnia;
Difícil manter um diálogo nirvânico
quando o interlocutor é só samsara e naraka;
Difícil estar circunscrito nesta biologia
quando se anela ser livre e cósmico.
Poems dedicated to Shelly Bhoil
Bio
Francis Kurkievicz is poet, professor of philosophy and literary critic. Born in Paranaguá, he lived in Curitiba/Brazil. He studied Philosophy and earned an MBA in RTVC MANAGEMENT AND PRODUCTION. In 2020 he released his first book of poems B869.1 k96 through Editora Patuá. He has published his poems in several digital magazines, such as: Mallarmargens, Acrobata, Arara, Amaité, the Latin American magazine Mal de Ojos and Portuguese platform escritas.org. His articles and translations have appeared in Escamandro, Zunái and Memai. He lives in Vitória/ES, where he teaches Dramaturgy, Haikais and Meditation workshops.
Both poems of Francis Kurkievicz have been translated by the poet himself.
Que emoção reler você, amigo Francis, assim não isolado, mas parte humana desse nosso Planeta Azul! Parabéns! (What a thrill to re-read you, friend Francis, not isolated, but a human part of our Blue Planet! Congratulations!)