Silver Sepp - "Eestlased" / poem "Estonians"

Описание: Silver Sepa luuletus "Eestlased" on tema 2018. aasta Eesti Slämmi võiduluuletus, mis selles videos on ette kantud ERMis 2023. aasta detsembris.
Tõlge on kingitus meile Eesti Vabariigi 107. sünnipäevaks.

Silver Sepp's poem "Estonians" was his winning poem in 2018 at Estonian Poetry Slam finals. This performance is filmed at the Estonian National Museum in December 2023.
The translation is a gift to 107th anniversary of the Republic of Estonia.

FULL TEXT
translation by Mirjam Parve and Adam Kammerling
*

I want to make a quick start here
before the sun sets on our Republic’s 107th year

I want to map some constellations in the chaos of letters,
and, in order, make clear (on some profoundly meta level)
the beginnings of the word “eestlased”

before we had this title: eestlased
this land’s population were nameless, with no banner to gather beneath and dream
there were bright minds certainly, but most folk were asleep
Papa Jannsen was philosophizing, soaking his feet in the salty sea water in Pärnu,
thinking: “eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-eestlased“/”errrr….eestlased (Estonians)”

but most of us don’t know – too young and unlearned –
our name’s an amalgamation of three separate words
tin-ti-tin-ti-tin
tuk-tuk wake up from dozing for hours
quick, zip your flies, pull up your trousers
tuk-tuk, guns cough in the blaze of war
the occupier draws and cocks his twelve bore

when someone behind us yells out: „EEST“ („OUT OF THE WAY!“)
the first part of the word’s expressed
a lightning bolt through bone marrow, muscles moving tensed
the abominable coloniser is snapping at your legs

Look! Over there
where a forefather flashes past, boots caked with mosses
Over the meadows, past the pine forest, he runs.
Who’re his pursuers? Somebody here
has been chasing us for hundreds of years

Somebody has been chasing me for hundreds of years

I am running in the forest, from…? Pick a nation -
Swedish, German, Polish, Russian, Danish,
half the Western world’s soldiers since the pope’s crusaders
never mind who I’m running from
I’m just running
for my life!
running for
you
Running for
your children’s future!

the invaders halt at the command of their captain
who screams Eest! get out of the way!
Send every fleeing Estonian
to an unmarked forest-floor grave

The second part of Eestlased:
lase! = shoot!
yes, this is next level etymology (meta-ymology, if you like?)
We’re in soldiers’ sights as we weave through the trees
the situation’s status: an unbearable heat


this is not just a springtime sprint through the sun
could be a bow or a gun trained fast to our skulls,
whether they scream halt! ruki vverkh! or strelyay!
‘Lase’, in my own brother’s voice; the most terrible cry.

And as we stumble, it seems this is the end,
see our bloodline darkly soaking the land
while this small story of independence fades
the Grim Reaper watches from a willow tree’s branches, sharpening his silvery blade

But we are still running, alive
and kicking up the singing sand
(we’re not so slow as our performance in the world cup qualifying matches would suggest)
Look! The very first one of us is running
Yes, he is one of us

Eest! (out of the way!)
Lase! (shoot!)
—————————
————————
the third word arrives: D! [S!]
the rifle’s hammer strikes,
D!
This is no bang
no crack
no boom!
It’s barely a word,
D! the whisper
of no bullet;
a toothless gun
D! our narrow escape over the blade of a knife
D! Our out
Another chance to taste your lips

D! our blessed origins:

the day of our salvation
When we were delivered into our joy, our sweet melancholy,
our rage

I wish all who’d been stopped by bullets
could have heard this
and they all would’ve had a boot-full of luck
and none had fallen flowing into soil

so many families speak of this pain
my own great-uncle was shot a young man,
a leaf that fell too soon


Eest!Lase!D!
Eestlased! = Estonians!

My coat tail flashing between the trees
as time’s dark fog lifts off the stream
and the sad sun glints off the gun’s barrel
I know there’s survival in each letter of our name

**

Vaata ka:
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