TRIGGER WARNING: Self-harm
It's not night yet, though I have slept a little bit already
by Ivan de Monbrison
You take a knife.
You cut your hand.
Blood comes out.
You sit down at your table.
You watch the blood fall, drop by drop
on the floor.
There is a candle lit on the table.
A full bottle of pastis and an empty glass.
You put a cigarette to your lips.
The smoke comes out of your nose,
as if from a chimney.
Original text (Russian):
Ой то не вечер мне малы мало спалось
by Ivan de Monbrison
Ты берешь нож.
Ты открываешь руку.
Из него выходит кровь.
Ты сидишь за своим столом.
Ты смотришь, как кровь падает капля за каплей на пол.
На столе горит свеча.
Полная бутылка пастиса и пустой стакан.
Ты кладешь сигарету себе в губы.
Из твоего носа идет дым,
Как из камина.
About the author:
Ivan de Monbrison
Ivan de Monbrison was born in Paris during the second world war and escaped the shoah by been taken to Switzerland. He has French, Russian, Ottoman and Jewish roots. Ivan explains that he has has suffered from severe depression for most of his life, and has as a result created his own world, isolated from society.
Translation is an important part of his writing.He sees his poems as lost between languages, and as a form of dialogue between two divided parts of himself. Ivan uses writing to address a part of himself that he has no access to.
In the words of Jacques Lacan:
"The other who is not really other, but a reflection and projection of the ego."
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Photo: Dream by Erato Magazine via Wombo