In Translation by David Vichnar

I’d like it if you hugged me without any further
slowly, yet unexpectedly,
if you’d look past it all, not disregard
but look past it
so we wouldn’t grow or speak anymore 
so we’d stand quietly for a while 
with our faces in each other’s hair for the time being 
and in that embrace 
I’d feel my heart pressing against yours
without the latticework of bonecages 
nothing more
and I’d know they can synchronise their warm wet step
to stop in a single instant
not a second apart
— the blood’s final breath in its one last run —
our arms would merely drop
and sway a little
as if we were flicking warm rain 
from our middle fingers

Back then, the empty stage of the world 
was still illuminated by starlight at night
as if the curtain of the sky from up above had been pierced 
with angry pitchforks by the Lord 
down an alley tenderised with pine needles
we carried her to the centre 
to which all the paths give a wide berth
— a glassy rainbow, precious marble. 
I can cry with one eye only and in my spare time
I lathe tiny, species-specific birds out of oakwood
I want to die healthy and clear-minded
my head not even touching the pillow
to give my children valuable advice: 
always add a pinch of cinnamon to the stew 
unstitch back to front 
you can never go wrong with a button-up shirt 
wash your face, or don’t 
keep your jackplanes on the right in the shed 
— please hand me the water 
don’t get married to the first doe
and then just to close my eyes
Silently, we went on, twice only I stumbled
you dug the hole, I squatted on the edge 
staring into the shiny depths which reflected no thing 
the cap slid down onto her ear like a derailed tram 
I held a handful of soil – and in every brown clod 
worm and egg 
mite and grub 
germ and rot: so much life
a dog barked 
your badges flashed
you flipped her, she was a bird of many colours, she flew



What does a head replay at the moment 
of falling headlong off a staircase
as long as a bridal veil?
An entire life fast-tracked, a life in a flipbook
one traverses with a thumbin order to make clear it really signified nothing
a bannister in a prefab house 
polished by children’s bums
all the mistakes that needn’t have happenedsince the warnings came 
instances of fatal irreversible hesitations intense failures in emergency situationsfear thwarting bravery
amusing faux pas – amusing for others
deaths and births and weddings and divorces – of othersabasements at the final exam
repeatedly getting sacked from the joba few seconds ahead of one’s own entry into the world –the first scream, so tenuous and yet shrillblood-spattered
a disappointed love for Susie, who so nonchalantlysidestepped
or that grinning slipper with auntie’s face?

David Vichnar is a lecturer whose research focuses on James Joyce, modernism, and related areas of literary theory. He is also a prominent translator of Czech poetry, with work featured in Modern Poetry in Translation and on the international literary platform Versopolis. In addition, he is the organiser of the Prague Microfestival, an annual celebration of contemporary art and literature. More information is available at: https://ualk.ff.cuni.cz/staff/academic-staff/david-vichnar

Olga Stehlíková is a poet, writer, editor, and critic. In 2014, she won the Magnesia Litera Book Prize for poetry with her debut collection Týdny. Since then, she has established herself as one of the most original voices of her generation, with significant achievements on both the national and international literary scenes.

The poems are from Though the Sky is Embroidered by a Zigzagging Bat published by Blue Diode Publishing and available for £ 10.00 from their e-shop at https://www.bluediode.co.uk