Translated by Greg Nissan
ach had i never been in the recovery room
numb beached teetering in that white
boat tethered next to other boats—ok
that’s the last harbor that’s the clammy
sleepcanal with black nurses who line
the shore as tribunal and threaten you
with stricter fingerspritzes: drip and
devil can you hear me dear—and hear
you cannot only silence in the sluices
sanitary purgatorrents nourishing you
dropwise from a tube—when under
your bed the sea’s swift beats seize
you back into the dream of star and
and gag far from the recovery room
Uljana Wolf is a poet and translator whose oeuvre, multilingual and sonically acrobatic, finds its spark in the transgression of borders, linguistic, national, or otherwise. Her most recent work, SONNE FROM ORT (2014), is a collaborative erasure with Christian Hawkey.
Greg Nissan graduated from Brown University last May with degrees in comparative literature and German studies. He is currently on a Fulbright scholarship in Berlin, where he is working on a documentary poetry project centered on the development of language in multicultural environments.
Original text: Uljana Wolf, “kreisau, nebelvoliere”, “aufwachraum I,” “aufwachraum II”, “auf einen alten tournister” from kochanie ich habe brot gekauft. Idstein: kookbooks, 2005.