HÄÄLED: KÜLMUTUSKAPI URIN.VOICES, HUM OF THE FRIDGE ...
Jaan Kaplinskitrans. the poet and Fiona Sampson (from Estonian)
Hääled: Külmutuskapi urin. Ukse kiiks.
Sammud trepil. Vesi torudes. Mingi sur,
vist naabrite pool. Toolijala kiiks põrandal.
Lüliti klõps. Mootorimürin: lennuk või suur veoauto
maanteel. Siis poiste sammud
teise korruse toas. Vee kohin. Mõned naginad,
millest ei teagi, mis nad on; need,
mis kuuluvad kodu juurde, meie
igapäevane helitaust, mis nüüd
aegamööda vaibub, jättes ruumi
millelegi vaiksemale ja sügavamale,
sellele helile kõrvades, mis on nagu
kõrgepingetraatide sirin suvel raiesmaa kohal,
see toob meelde kilpjalad, liivatee,
ja maasikaid, maasikaid
tuleb suletud silmade ette just nagu toonagi.
Steps on the stairs. Water in the pipes. A kind of a rumbling
probably at the neighbour's. The scrape of the chair on the floor.
The click of the switch. Distant roar of an engine: a plane or big lorry
on the road. Then the steps of our boys
in the first floor room. Running of water. Some creakings
you don't even recognize; all these
belong to our home, our
everyday background of sounds that is now
ebbing. Leaving space
for something more silent and deep,
for this sound in your ears that is like
the hum of high-voltage lines above the clearing in summer,
bringing to mind bracken, thyme,
and wild strawberries,strawberries
raising in front of my closed eyes as once long ago.

Copyright © Jaan Kaplinski 2002, transl. © Jaan Kaplinski & Fiona Sampson


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