Ну хорошо, мне рук не выкручивали,
но Марку подожгли дверь.
Гришу вывезли в лес под Киев
и испиздили тiкi так.
А Ольгу исключительно блядью называли,
и чтоб удостоверилась,
в вендиспансер к проституткам запихнули.
Вот только с Гелием осечка вышла.
В изолятоpe не лечили, не лечили,
не лечили, не лечили,
пока не умер.
Ночами, такими туманными,
что хочется навести резкость,
проступают казармы с бурым освещением,
в затхлых спальнях которых
слышны лязг и бряцание,
оттого что кому-то приснился автомат;
проступают больницы,
в приёмных покоях которых
землистые больные и их землистые родственники
сидят в ожидании;
Проступает тюрьма,
команда которой заняла первое место
в соревнованиях облсовета "Динамо"
по борьбе самбо.
Проступает такое,
чего ты не видел днём.
Устраивать свадьбу во время чумы
было совсем глупо.
Но я не мог отказать родителям невесты.
Они позвали в ресторан своих друзей,
и нам кричали "горько".
Ещё был фотограф – свадебный.
Но где-то в глубине зала я заметил
другого фотографа – не званого.
Интересно, остались ли эти снимки в архиве КГБ?
А те записи, аудио, моих свиданий?
Хотел бы я услышать эти любовные стоны
тридцатилетней давности? Не уверен.
За полночь ты выйдешь из подъезда и сразу увидишь
два сгустка ночи, в каждом из которых
в тусклых лучах подстветки
молчат трое мужчин, не считая водителя.
Ты оттолкнёшься ногами от асфальтового дна города,
и чёрные сгустки, субмарины ночи, плавно поплывут за тобой,
не включая фар. Твоё сердце медленно оторвётся от тела
и заскользит в противоположную от него сторону,
прикидываясь морским ежом или жемчужницей.
И чем зловещей будет этот ночной заплыв,
тем прекрасней будут воспоминания, но всё равно
на застёгивай плащ, переночуй у нас хотя бы ещё одну ночь.
Что было неприятней всего?
Что арестовали на пляже в мокрых плавках.
В первый день я бегал с допроса в уборную
каждые полчаса.
Вилен Павлович с надеждой спросил:
У вас что, трепак?
Из книги «КГБ и другие стихи»
Igor Pomerantsev
Listen to the poems read in the original Russian by the author:
The poems published here are a selection from Igor Pomerantsev's KGB Poems, a book-length cycle that was published in Russia a couple of years ago. Igor came to the attention of the Soviet security police in Kiev in the second half of the 1970's for his opinions, for his writing and for keeping and distributing literature deemed anti-Soviet. Following arrest and interrogation, the KGB forced him into exile. In 1978 he left the Soviet Union for Western Europe.
KGB Poems underwent a lengthy maturation process. The cycle was written in two main phases. A first group was written soon after the events described in the poems. These form a narrative thread through the cycle, a poetic testament to the dissident movement in Ukraine and written at a time when it was far from obvious that in little over a decade the USSR would disintegrate. Later came a second group, more lyrical, more reflective, in which the experience of arrest has been absorbed and filtered through a more mature sensibility. The two groups are shown in different typefaces, the earlier group in a regular face and the second in italics.
The selection published here represents a fragment of KGB Poems. The cycle features many characters – the lyrical hero, his family, his girlfriend, his fellow dissidents, his interrogators. Many of them are real, identifiable people, though such references are recognizable now only to those of us who followed the news about Soviet dissidents at the time. So Igor and I decided to include in our short selection those poems which did not need any explanations about who was who or what was what.
It feels like the events described belong to another age. Thanks to social networks and blogs, contemporary dissidents have a far superior set of tools at their disposal. The isolation and loneliness of dissent is a thing of the past. But in the final analysis, it still comes down to an individual against a system, a poet pitting his wits against the secret police. Igor's experience is more than thirty years in the past, but the situation will still be familiar to readers in many parts of the world today.
Translating Igor is a challenge and a delight. It is a challenge to find an equivalent voice, to capture the taut, dry, ironical tone. It is a delight to track the leaps of his imagination, the precision of his language, the paradoxes of his images. We sometimes have heated discussions as to whether I used the right word in a translation, whether it conveys just what he meant. This is the thing about Igor. He always means exactly what he says, no more, no less. My task as translator is to catch the music and follow wherever it leads.
You can find more of Igor's poetry and prose here.
KGB Poems underwent a lengthy maturation process. The cycle was written in two main phases. A first group was written soon after the events described in the poems. These form a narrative thread through the cycle, a poetic testament to the dissident movement in Ukraine and written at a time when it was far from obvious that in little over a decade the USSR would disintegrate. Later came a second group, more lyrical, more reflective, in which the experience of arrest has been absorbed and filtered through a more mature sensibility. The two groups are shown in different typefaces, the earlier group in a regular face and the second in italics.
The selection published here represents a fragment of KGB Poems. The cycle features many characters – the lyrical hero, his family, his girlfriend, his fellow dissidents, his interrogators. Many of them are real, identifiable people, though such references are recognizable now only to those of us who followed the news about Soviet dissidents at the time. So Igor and I decided to include in our short selection those poems which did not need any explanations about who was who or what was what.
It feels like the events described belong to another age. Thanks to social networks and blogs, contemporary dissidents have a far superior set of tools at their disposal. The isolation and loneliness of dissent is a thing of the past. But in the final analysis, it still comes down to an individual against a system, a poet pitting his wits against the secret police. Igor's experience is more than thirty years in the past, but the situation will still be familiar to readers in many parts of the world today.
Translating Igor is a challenge and a delight. It is a challenge to find an equivalent voice, to capture the taut, dry, ironical tone. It is a delight to track the leaps of his imagination, the precision of his language, the paradoxes of his images. We sometimes have heated discussions as to whether I used the right word in a translation, whether it conveys just what he meant. This is the thing about Igor. He always means exactly what he says, no more, no less. My task as translator is to catch the music and follow wherever it leads.
You can find more of Igor's poetry and prose here.
Igor Pomerantsev is a Russian poet, essayist and broadcaster. He grew up in the city of Chernovtsy (Ukraine). In 1978 his writing and dissident activities led to KGB pressure to emigrate. Settling in London, he worked first for the BBC, then Radio Liberty. Since 1989 his writing has appeared regularly in leading Russian literary magazines. His two most recent book-length cycles of poems – World Service (Radio Lyrics) and KGB Poems – were published in Moscow by Novoe Literaturnoe Obozrenie. KGB Poems was published in Ukrainian translation by Grani-T, Kiev. Igor Pomerantsev lives in Prague.
Frank Williams worked in international broadcasting for the BBC and Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty for over thirty years. During that time he collaborated closely with Igor Pomerantsev as producer of his radio programs and translator of his prose and poetry. Among other contemporary Russian authors he has translated Zinovy Zinik. Vladimir Voinovich, Yevgeny Popov and Leonid Borodin. He, too, lives in Prague.
