Monday, November 30, 2015

Kinga Fabo- Three Poems


Poison

I don't know what it is but very ill-
intended. Surely a woman must belong to it.
And something like a laughter.

I am rotating the city on me,
rotating my beauty. That's that!
Many keys, small keyholes whirling.

Gazes cannot be all in vain. And the answer?
Merely a jeer.
The vase hugs and kills me, can't breathe.

Now my features – even with the best intentions –
cannot be called beautiful.
And her? The girl? Her trendy perfume

is Poison. For me a real poison indeed.
And the vase?
It hugs and kills me.

But what am I to do without?


(Translated by Kinga Fabó)


© Kinga Fabó



While In Action

While in action you don’t disturb
me a bit. Just go to bed and sleep.
You’re being so vulgar, hon. And like
snow: soft and sneaky.

Admitted: thirty minutes sentiments, inane
silence, claptrap. Shot. Ladies,
in my ping-pong heart the game is
at rest. Some other time. Perhaps.


(Translated by Katalin N. Ullrich)


© Kinga Fabó



Isadora Duncan Dancing

Like sculpture at first. Then, as if the sun rose in her, long
gesture.
A small smile; then very much so.

The beauty
of the rite shone; whirling.

She whirled and whirled,
flaming.
Only the body spoke. The body carried her

language.

Her dance a spell
swirling the air, a spiral she was

and

her shawl, the half circle around her,
the curve of the sea-shore and
girl,

the dancer and the dance apart…


(Trascreated by Cathy Strisik and Veronica Golos based on Katalin N. Ullrich’s translation.)


© Kinga Fabó



Bio

Kinga Fabó is an acclaimed Hungarian poet (linguist, essayist). Her recent bilingual Indonesian-English poetry book is Racun/Poison, 2015, Jakarta.

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