School of Unhabituation
Translated by Clare Cavanagh and
Michał Rusinek
The curtain—against the animals of moods
a cobweb because of the world.
The spider
of my room
is hitched to it
“soir—espoir”
and besides—it’s getting light
At night
to touch a chair’s shape—
to strum any line of a straw mattress—
to taste a dry crumb of ceiling—
they drop in flocks
everything that connects
like moths—
whatever you think up.
So many! So many!
Until we too spin and—
cry out (I, the stove, the mattresses):
“Angels—angels
come sit on the wall
right here!!!”
They sit.
They sing a scale:
hy
po
the
ses
of
rea
li
ty
rea
li
ty
of
hy
po
the
ses
——The spider of my room is hitched to it
and besides—it’s getting light.
Empty eyes blink the curtain.
Now there’s just—predestination
the veil of Ananke—
or the goddess of exhaustion
send me whatever just not
things trapped in habituation.
Translated from the Polish
Notes:
Copyright Notice: First published in English by New York Review Books, Translation Copyright © 2024 by Clare Cavanagh and Michał Rusinek.
Audio poem performed by Clare Cavanagh.
Read the Polish-language original, “Szkola nieprzyzwyczajenia,” and the translator’s note by Clare Cavanagh.
Source:
Poetry
(September 2023)