Hasso Krull

Hasso Krull Poems

Dawn has already broken. Already, dawn has broken.
Branches appear on the trees. Leaves appear on the branches.
Color appears on the leaves. Tone appears in the color.
Depth appears in the tone. Softening into the depth.
...

Right now, right now I would like to change
into something different. Can I? I don't know. I
listen to the angry blizzard, a train rattles the things
on the table, then is gone. Did I change
...

The night is full of holes. They flicker,
stiffen, reverberate, windows in the night,
windows in the sky, windows of existence
and windows with no need to exist.
...

There are holes in the road. There are holes in the earth.
Stepping forward I notice: there are holes in my boots.
Where there are holes, my socks show through,
I can see them, I know this because there are holes in my skull.
...

Father, can't you see that I'm burning?
That's what the little boy said to Freud.
But Freud had already dozed off. A candle
in his hand, his head sunken to his chest, he
...

All people are pregnant, said Diotima,
their bodies are pregnant, their souls are pregnant,
oh how they want to give birth with all their might.
Beauty is childbirth. Birth is beautiful.
...

An empty Greek restaurant. People
go by, Germans, Swabians and others,
music doesn't play here.
The name of the restaurant is MYTHOS.
...

Zhuangzi invites butterflies into his deathbed.
And they come. Though it is broad daylight,
moths and loopers come too,
swarms of them buzz gloomily,
...

"Oh!" "Please excuse me."
"Oh! Please excuse me." "Oh!"
"Please excuse me." "Why?"
"Please excuse me for biting you."
...

Vaikselt kohiseb meri, nagu voolaks jõgi,
see pole jõgi, see on meri, pilved voolavad
üle metsa, üle kadariku, voolavad nagu jõgi,
aga seal sees on auk, pilvedes on auk

ja sealt paistavad kibuvitsa valged õied,
ei, ei paista, nüüd ma valetasin, aga
ikkagi õitseb kibuvits, pilved voolavad
ja valetavad koos minuga, nii et maa on must,

nii et rohi on roheline, liiliad kollased,
pojengid punased, kõik selle valetasid pilved
ja niisiis ei olegi alla käinud valetamise kunst,
vastupidi, see on saavutanud enneolematu ulatuse,

see on pannud mere kohisema, linnud laulma,
punased pojengid õitsema, vaikselt kohiseb meri
ja see ei ole jõgi, jõgi on kõrgel üleval pilvedes,
need pilved valetavad, nagu jaksavad, aga nende sees on auk.
...

The sea rustles quietly, like a running river,
it is not a river, it is the sea, clouds run
over the forest, over the juniper thicket, they run like a river,
but inside them is a hole, inside the clouds is a hole

and because of it, flowers of sweetbriar can be seen,
no, they can't be seen, I lied, but
sweetbriar still flowers, clouds run,
and lie along with me, so earth is black,

so grass is green, lilies yellow,
peonies red, clouds lie about all of it
and so the art of lying hasn't decayed,
in fact, it has reached new heights,

it has caused the sea to roar, birds to sing,
red peonies to flower, the sea rustles quietly,
and it is no river, the river is raised high into the clouds,
these clouds lie as much as they can, though there is a hole inside them.
...

Tee sees on augud. Maa sees on augud.
Kui astun edasi, märkan: saabastes on augud.
Sealt paistavad sokid, mille sees on augud,
näen seda ja tean, sest mu pealuus on augud.

Kui vihm sajab veele, on vee sees augud.
Piisad löövad, mina kuulen, sest mu kõrvades on augud:
seisatan ja hingan, sest mu nina sees on augud,
kõnnin edasi ja mõtlen. Jah, mu mõtetes on augud.

Minu sõnades on augud. Lao-zi meelest oli
kõige rohkem vaja tühjust - aga ütle, sõber,
milleks tühjus, kui seal poleks aina
augu kõrval augud? Suured augud. Väiksed augud.

Olemine on augud. Sünd ja surm on augud.
Universumis mustad augud - ehk saab sealt välja,
kuhugi, kus on võib-olla teistmoodi augud.
Väljapääsud on augud. Suu, süda, soolikad - augud.
...

Lättes ujub õietolmu ja nurmikaseemneid.
Puhas läte. Kui sirutan kannuga käe,
märkan, et ka üks tigu hulbib vee peal
ja punane konn ootab kivil, valmis põgenema.

Puhas läte. Vaatan, kui priskelt on vetikaid põhjas,
nad hõljuvad kivide ümber kui pehme vaip,
uhkete vöötidega. Vahepeal otsustab konn
hüpata keset vett, ta teeb paar tugevat tõmmet

ja ronib teisel pool välja. Mind on nüüd märganud
sääsed, mul hakkab kiire, ammutan kannuga
välja ka teo, täidan kiiresti ämbrid, paar rohelist
täid ja üks ämblik suplevad kirkas vees.

Lättevesi on puhas, see on ühe unenäo vesi.
Maa unenägu, selge ja väga vana. Kiirustan
mäest üles nagu kahe vaega kaal, siis
rüüpan klaasist vett, suus nurmikaseemned.
...

Pollen and meadow-grass seeds swim in the wellspring.
A clear spring. As I extend the jug with my hand
I notice that a snail floats on the water, too,
and a red frog waits on a stone, ready to escape.

A clear spring. I notice the vigor of the algae at the bottom
as it hovers around the stones in gorgeous streaks,
like soft carpet. In the meantime, the frog decides
to jump into the water, and after a few powerful strokes

it climbs out the other side. Now the mosquitoes
have noticed me. Working faster, I scoop the snail
out with the jug, fill the buckets quickly, a pair of green
lice and one spider soak in the luminous water.

The water of the spring is clear, that of a dream.
The earth's dream, lucid and very old. I hurry
over the hill like a scale with two weights, then
drink water from a cup, meadow-grass seeds in my mouth.
...

„Ai!" „Palun vabandust."
„Ai! Palun vabandust." „Ai!"
„Palun vabandust." „Miks?"
„Palun vabandust, et ma sind hammustasin."

„Ai, palun vabandust!" „Ai!"
„Palun vabandust! Ai!"
„Palun vabandust, et ma sind hammustasin,
kui sa ütlesid ai."

„Palun vabandust." „Miks?" „Palun vabandust."
„Palun vabandust, ai!" „Miks?"
„Palun vabandust, et ma ütlesin ai,
kui sa mind hammustasid."

„Ai!" „Palun!" „Vabandust!" „Ai!"
„Miks?" „Vabandust, ai!" „Palun vabandust,
et ma palusin vabandust,
kui sa ütlesid ai."
...

Kõik inimesed on rasedad, rääkis Diotima,
rase on nende keha, ja rase on nende hing,
oi kuidas nad kõigest väest tahavad sünnitada.
Ilu on sünnitamine. Sünd ongi ilus.

Nii rääkis Diotima Sokratesele. Sokrates rääkis
sama juttu Agathoni peol, seda kuulis
noor Aristodemos, ja rääkis hiljem edasi
Apollodorosele, kes rääkis oma sõpradele.

Väike Platon mängis õues põrnikatega.
Kust tulevad kõik need põrnikad, mõtles ta,
kas äkki ühest hästi suurest põrnikast
üleval taevas? Keda meie ei näe?

Õhtuks oli emme ta tuppa magama viinud.
Agathoni juures algas pedede pidu,
ja et keegi ei jaksand enam juua, hakati arutama:
räägime täna armastusest. Räägime ilust
...

Kohe nüüd, kohe nüüd tahaks muutuda
hoopis teistsuguseks. Kas saab? Ei tea. Ma
kuulen tuisu ulgumist, üks rong raputab asju
laua peal, siis on möödas. Kas nüüd

ma muutusin? Ei. Vist mitte. Teen
akna lahti, lund sajab sisse, see on
muutus, joon klaasi apelsinimahla
greipfruudi seemnete ekstraktiga

ja lähen näost lapiliseks, punaselaiguliseks.
Kas see oli muutus? Vaatan peeglisse,
tõepoolest, nüüd olen täitsa teist nägu.
Teine inimene. Ma ei taha selline olla.

Tahaks muutuda. Kohe, kohe nüüd, nüüd kohe
muutuda hoopis teistsuguseks. Tuisk jääb
vakka. Ühtki autot ei sõida. Kas ma
muutusin? Ei tea. Vist mitte eriti.
...

Vaata teda. Mispärast see mees on kurb?
Kas juhtus midagi? Ei tea. Võib-olla küll.
Võib-olla tõesti. Võib-olla tõesti juhtus.
Aga võib-olla ei. Võib-olla ta polegi kurb.

Võib-olla see oli eile. Aga võib-olla mitte.
Võib-olla küll. Võib-olla paar päeva varem.
Võb-olla mitte kunagi. Võib-olla ükskord siiski.
Sai lolli moodi joodud. Võib-olla rohkem kui vaja.

Võib-olla vähem. Oleks pidanud jooma rohkem.
Seal oli ju järv? Miks sa järve tühjaks ei joonud?
Aga võib-olla järve polnud. Oli hoopis jõgi.
Võib-olla hoopis meri. Võib-olla ei olnudki vett.

Võib-olla see oli üks tüdruk. Võib-olla teine.
Kas juhtus midagi? Ei tea. Võib-olla küll.
Aga võib-olla mitte. Sai hoopis lolli moodi joodud.
Aga võib-olla ei. Võib-olla seal polnudki vett.
...

Look at him. What makes this man sad?
Did something happen? I don't know. Maybe so.
Maybe it actually did. Maybe it really happened.
But maybe not. Maybe he isn't actually sad.

Maybe it was yesterday. But maybe not.
Maybe so. Maybe a few days before.
Maybe never. Maybe on some future day.
Some stupid drinking will be done. Maybe more than necessary.

Maybe less. Maybe he should have drunk more.
Wasn't there a lake there? Why don't you drink the entire lake?
But maybe there wasn't a lake. It was actually a river.
Maybe actually a sea. Maybe there actually wasn't any water.

Maybe it was a girl. Maybe another.
Did something happen? Who knows. Maybe so.
But maybe not. Some stupid drinking will be done.
But maybe not. Maybe there really was no water there.
...

Tühi kreeka restoran. Lähevad mööda
inimesed, sakslased, švaabid ja kes
veel, muusikat siin ei mängi.
Restorani nimi on MYTHOS.

Kreeklane toob süüa. Õhukesteks viiludeks
lõigatud lihatükid, krõbe sealiha,
salat ja punane riis. Vaatan aknast välja,
söön, heidan pilgu taldrikule ja

äkki näen: kreeka tähed.
Gyros. Poleites. Mesogaios. Helos.
Iga lihatüki peal on nimi.
Muidugi, need on ju Odysseuse mehed,

kelle Kirke sigadeks muutis. Nüüd
on nende ihu viimaks minunigi jõudnud.
Kreeklane tuleb, naeratab, kastab
kastekannust orhideed, PHALAENOPSIS. MYTHOS.
...

Hasso Krull Biography

Hasso Krull, an Estonian poet, essayist and translator, was born in 1964 in Tallinn. He studied Estonian Linguistics and Literature until 1985 at the Pedagogic University of Tallinn. Krull has played a major role in the propagation of modern French philosophy within the Estonian literary-critical discourse, and has, as a theorist, been primarily concerned with post-structuralism and post-modernism. Hasso Krull is one of the most important writers and thinkers to emerge from Estonia since the country regained independence in 1991. Among his numerous books of poetry are Talv (Winter, 2006); and Neli korda neli (Four Times Four, 2009). Krull’s poetry is strongly rooted in the Estonian landscape, but reaches far beyond regional concerns due to its attention to the details of modern life and the intellect of the poet. In recent years, Krull has been strongly attracted to mythologies, creation stories and cosmology.)

The Best Poem Of Hasso Krull

***[Dawn has already broken]

Dawn has already broken. Already, dawn has broken.
Branches appear on the trees. Leaves appear on the branches.
Color appears on the leaves. Tone appears in the color.
Depth appears in the tone. Softening into the depth.

A rug appears on the floor. Slippers appear on the rug.
A glass appears on the table. Water appears in the glass.
A tapestry appears on the wall. A pattern appears in the tapestry.
Books appear on the shelves. Letters appear in the books.

Hair appears on the pillow. A face appears in the hair.
Eyes appear on the face. Lids appear on the eyes.
Lashes appear on the lids. A shiver appears on the lashes.
A screen appears in the shiver. Dreams appear on the screen.

Dreams move on the screen of the retina.
You move your elbow. I touch you.
You turn over. Warmth appears under the blanket.
A dream appears in the warmth. The sun appears in the dream.

Translated by Brandon Lussier

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