Posts Tagged ‘Poem Talk’

Nuuswekker. Potgooi oor Paul Celan se “Corona”

Thursday, January 5th, 2017
paul-celan

Foto: Romanian Cultural Institute, London

Die webblad Jacket 2 is sekerlik een van die kuberruim se mees indrukwekkende tuistes vir die digkuns. Nie net is die verskeidenheid van hul aanbod indrukwekkend nie, maar so ook die gehalte van hul plasings. So is een van hul inisiatiewe Poem Talk, ‘n reeks potgooie van gesprekke deur ‘n groep kenners oor ‘n bepaalde gedig. Onlangs is Poem Talk # 107 geplaas en watter fassinerende gesprek is dit nie oor Paul Celan se beroemde gedig “Corona” nie.

Pierre Joris, Anna Strong en Ariel Resnikoff vorm die paneel terwyl Al Filreis as gespreksleier optree.

Wat my van die gesprek opgeval het, is die vraag of “Corona” uitsluitlik as liefdesvers gelees moet word, al dan nie. Vry algemeen word die gedig as liefdesvers beskou en dit was dan ook die mening van Pierre Joris. Sy beskouing baseer hy grootliks op die verhouding wat Celan met Ingeborg Bachman gehad het.

Daar is egter ook ‘n ánder interpretasie moontlik: “Or is it a poem about the dream of finally speaking out the truth, from a casement, to a gathering of the Austrian public, about hate’s annihilating effects?” Anna Strong en Ariel Resnikoff was die ondersteuners van hierdie beskouing.

Jy kan hier na die potgooi luister. Die regisseur daarvan is Zach Carduner.

Hieronder volg die gedig.

pt-celan-anna-strong-ariel-resnikoff-pierre-joris

Anna Strong, Pierre Joris en Ariel Resnikoff

*

Corona

Autumn is eating a leaf from my hand: we are friends.
We are picking time out of a nut, we teach it to run:
and time rushes back to its shell.

In the mirror it’s Sunday.
in dreams people sleep,
the mouth tells the truth.

My eye descends to the sex of my loved one,
we gaze at each other,
we whisper our darkness,
we love one another like poppies and memory,
we sleep like wine in a sea-shell,
like the sea in the moon’s bloody rays.

Embracing we stand in the window, they look up at us from the street:
it is time that they knew!
It is time that the stone grew accustomed to blooming,
that unrest formed a heart.
It is time it was time.

It is time.

 

© Paul Celan

Vertaal deur Jerome Rothenberg, 1959