nypoesi 4/06
Broken Leg: A Reader
Attempt 1
create a hinge

Attempt 2
open the ardour of a word

Attempt 3
stand in the threshold until the limb

Attempt 4
if, then

Attempt 5
enter foreign and indigenous
exit indigenous and foreign

Attempt 6

Attempt 7

Attempt 8
a courage of steel


Înlăuntrul, meu coajă de var de ou,
stăteam pe întuneric
până când cineva a spart
coaja aceea
şi am văzut că sunt gălbenuş într-un albuş
şi este cu mult mai albă
decât cerul albastru.

With a Broken Leg

Indefatiguable, my courage to see from where,
the state of my foot impecunious
cloth and ashes in shards
a courage of steel
(i need it)
for in emptiness galled with intrusions of dawn
this my almost white dawn
(i become)
fallen chalk from the serious cast of plaster.

(trans. from N.S. Romana by E.S.)
Cunha Perna Rota

Incansábel, a miña coraxe de ver de onde,
o estado do meu pé indixente
pano e cinzas en cachizas
unha coraxe de aceiro
por que no baleiro molestado polas intrusións do albor
este, o meu case branco albor
(estou transformada)
xiz caído da escaiola seria de xeso.

(trans. from E.S. Engleza by E.S.)
Rounding-up the foot, with

Encased, undisputable, my hearted-axe ceases from here
a stadium of my indigenous foot
stalled and booted in boots
asking a hearted-axe
so that no balleted foot may hurt from ardor’s intrusion
being, my white ardor encased
(you transforming)
seized by the serious gessoed eye.

(trans. from E.S. Galego by O.A.)
O pé redondeando, con

Encaixada, indisputábel, a miña hacha-corazonada cese dende aquí
o estadio do meu pé nativo
parado e botado en botas
pedindo unha hacha-corazonada
para que ningún pé de danzarina senta aquela dor ferida, a da intrusión de ardor
sendo, o meu ardor branco encaixado
(ti transformándome)
agarrado polo ollo serio de xeso.

(trans. from O.A. Engleza by E.S.)
Country restored, oh

Enchanting the indisputable in my hatched heart, cease the here, the where
oh study of my native country
paraded and bottled in bottles
dependant on the hatched heart
so that no indigenous country feels the closing of longing, ardor’s intrusion
(the transformed you)
gathering, eye-seizing, estou.

(trans. from E.S. Galego by O.A.)

The ohs of the country, natively seized,
were bottled, paraded,
then given the boot.
A colonel oversaw the transaction
longing salivating his mouth
for the indigenous salute.
Soldiers witnessed, were ohed
hatching their epaulettes, their medals and stars
wide-eyed with moonlight
gathering in the middle of the square.


(O.A. transleaping from the English of O.A. with the soldier of N.S.)
O país, restituído

Encantando o indisputábel no meu corazón, rompida a súa casca
o estudio do meu país nativo
desfilado e embotellado en botellas
agarrado ao corazón
para que non hai país indíxena que non sente soidades, a intrusión do ardor
(a ti transformada na luz de mañá)
agrupando, un ollo-collendo, mans abertas, i’m here.

(trans. from O.A. inglés by E.S.)
Derivation of the Possible

Return to the return!
return to the quiet of hinges,
wide-eyed with that pale moon’s ray
ice-heaving among the skies

homecoming to this threshold
carrying red chard or lettuce at day’s end
cut and lifted from old soil

“so that ardour’s indigenous intrusion can displace longing”

(soldiers spit up their medals,
epaulettes, stars cough
up their buttons, their throats raw)

i’ve returned, say the barracks, to the hinges.
stand up, take this armful!
be oaken. be silent.
evolve, evolve!

(E.M. co-transleap from the transleap of O.A.)
Tender Divulgation of a Soldier

(enchanting the indisputable in my hatched heart where)

(ardour’s intrusion makes me indigenous)

the hinges gone silent,
medals melted into coins, good for throwing into fountains,
epaulettes tied together into rags, fluttering at the
stars (your stars, oh)

make a wish. if you see me. do you see me?

(E.M. co-leapt from the derivation of O.A.)
Possibly derived

if rain derived from your soldiered eyes
if rain rayed the moon
          a hinge
if arduous such a hinge
if i open your door without knocking
if our doors give onto countries where solitude is sentient
if i arrive in your arms indigenous
    i arrive hands open

(O.A. transimagined from the Galego of E.S. and co-transleap of E.M.)

let us be those quieted hinges
let the house rampage what’s native
let a country defile a precise heart
unscented solitude let a linden flower
let the eye collect rain in its cupped leaves
let the garden become a garden
a wish let
let stars rag the sky (ardor’s incisions)
let its vault trumpet a blue wish
let ohs divulge into ohs, sighs into sighs
let dawn, day’s foot, step into the cheek of the coasted one

(O.A. transimagined again from the Galego of E.S. and co-transleap of E.M.)
Day’s Foot, Step
        “my courage to see from where”

Dawn’s light, at the window

Rain cups light in leaves, evening

Eyes touch eyes, night’s doorway

ardour, at the clamour of noon

(E.M. in Calgary, trans-leaping a day on Matei Voievod, from the altering of O.A.)
Leg Up: A Reeling
It tempts to transgress in the name of elation

The name itself, signed, acknowledges that the one who signs is leaving. Otherwise, why sign? Why leave that marking? So the work exists in the potentiality of absence. That mortality’s episode permeates the signature turns the hand utterly from it. Surrounded by wet marsh, the river out of sight in the darkness of the firs, standing outside the truck, hands wet at the sides, rain falling into the mouth (the very mouth) and filling it, the refusal of the signature, in our language, beckons ardour’s intrusion. Here “native” finds us without stopping. Not that no one signs a work, one always does. But with another’s name. Foreign forages the hand. So that finally the signature is so transgressed, what is present is relentless, or a reeling. One leg upward, reeling.

Attempt 6
let the house rampage what is native

Attempt 7

Attempt 8

unha coraxe de aceiro                alive, alive, sans signature

Attempt 9

Submitted in a flurry of signatures by Oana Avasilichioaei, Erín Moure, Elisa Sampedrín and Nichita Stănescu.