logo

do I or do I not. . .

Latvian Feature

more poetry






Edvīns Raups Edvīns Raups




from Cook Up Something Transitory for Me



Translated by Margita Gailitis


* * *


I must still write in petit
sand stone shards cliffs
and nights When my head
like an archetype sleeps beside the unmilked
way Milky and art is
a beast that has dipped its muzzle
in dew asking If this is
too little Fine I wasn't
as precise as a whirlpool Just singularly deadly
like a bee I was lost but my
neighbor was found by Heaven washed
up on shore



* * *


I've been shown for a long time
what blood is I've been advised
to begin all from the beginning But
heartclean The Lord's whine
sounds and the silver button
in her lap wails a path Don't
she says My fear the Night's
epic window No one
has set foot here except for buffalo
the buffalo like dawns crash
over me just the tenderness
of night narcissus draws me so irresistibly
memory slips away through my nose
and I am a small red
god absorbed by grass



* * *


sacred hour of belief
with a candle on her chest a Small
green frog Split
crosswise like the yin and
yang theme Someone whispers
in a lotus blossom a fairy
fey Pulls out of me
this rusted phlegm
and drives in something
new and clean



* * *


in a masterfully nailed
cadillac I drove
ever deeper inland and farther
into pale sufferer country
my hair   windblown
like a torch You
come just in time! Suddenly
in my mind heaven
shrank and wrinkled
darkness flooded
in joy over wide open
eyes but froze
in expectation As if I had
died ha brothers sense
my horse hit in the nostrils
by the smell of formaldehyde and
sparks fly into Mary's
lap Where are
you in this beyond the grave
country where palms sway over
crags of cliffs and the moon
hangs in the branches By
the spring where I
must drink and
water my horse? Hey
lift your heads
from the beyond death bowls
of peace soup Here
w  e'  l  l   c  r  a  w  l
o  u  t
 


* * *


my colors the combination
of field plants and hills like veins And
the veining collecting into scars
around the center of the lake in the morning when
chatter chatter come the shakes
vibration oh Blood mother it
whispers stay in your place stand
like a pillar put in a word for the child
for me And suddenly all changes gender
and number and God's frogs
leap about kerplunk yes water
it's good she says but don't While the owl
still is blind While there are drying sheds
for hay and each of us through
our own straw dies
upwards


* * *


an infant too reaches a critical age
I remember the valley where I couldn't be caught
because I was slower than the white bird
in mother's breast Slower yet than an eagle
that flew here calling We have the same blood
you and I
Slower than the place
where water flows from the abyss and from which
Columbus now is writing to his grandchildren—
Lords you are mistaken that a continent exists here
and only that


* * *


I recall Cezanne's little dogs rupi rupi Something
dear and fine and sensible like the saved
Sumerian phallus And what is it now—
is it an era? Maybe we should return
to the quintessential Water mother Spirit mother
Akrura Lakshmi Ardzuna may the word
remain where it's been Only I'm sorry for the human
and you Oh
     the dead
how disobedient they are



* * *


When I wanted to be together with you Who
was I a Flesh Nail caught
perhaps mid sea Grasp with confidence
this landscape loosen your heart
nine black horses nine
black men midst three stones a Bird
three Greek letters in the sky a Bird
find me when leaves turn when
the dead move soft softly And
the sun is high in the heavens and a song
sets. I like this girl
I like this striving When I
was the one who wanted togetherness the Nine
black horses Do you Recall the opera
in which Hoffman's death was awaited
the musical Canal score of Your lips
and the Triangle on your forehead which
sucks out a dead future
placenta. So fine So good
we've survived the Lovely
Virgin with the Yoke! The Cross
on the forehead so one maaay see. . .maaay see. . .Maaay row
brother Ker plunk into River Daugava
In gaps between three stones a Bird
My Nail my midsea and Stars
don't hit the lake stars
nail your palm to
the heart Consummatum est Old
Jews during the night heal me
learn how a chimney draws they cry learn
how it draws until the final possibility like
hair like a pillar of salt wears down like
an old moon dries up like a swamp
reed the Sacred river passion
and the backs of your horses are
one and the same See and Gaze at the Waves
your tongue splits
like the mourning of Sybils Large
and spaced letters l a r g e a n d
s p a c e d Why from sorrow
does the window bleed only for you why
am I slain When not even the Devil
can see who drives
in God's carriage



* * *


your wedding veil in a Closeup
the high rocky shore with
its splintered icons What
is the lyrical she
asks what
has escaped God
through his fingers Is it
a thread
is it mine



* * *


the clip of flesh registers in the dark blood
the clop of father's Third son
riding into the courtyard Nothing
yet to be sensed
only a bird
flies into a window puts
together his hands clip
clop Lord
the heavens
up high
bend the clock Let it ring
should I wake