by Jüri Talvet
Honestly – I don't understand. Your son
you said had become a famous scientist
in America, but now it appears
that all those years of absence he hasn’t
done anything other than catch rats
in the New York subway, for lab cats
who in Descartes’ opinion have no soul
(cf Kundera,The unbearable lightness
of being, trans. L. Metsar, Monokkel
1992, p 174). As for me, I send a letter
to James Merrill with thanks for “Laboratory
Poem” which I translated in New York,
in drizzle that fell from dawn to dusk.
(Even rain has soul) In the land
of the dead I will always win friends.
(Trans. H. L. Hix)
From:
Isegi vihmal on hing (Tartu: Tartu Ülikooli kirjastus, 2010)
Copyright ©:
jüri Talvet
Last updated September 19, 2011