Nire poesiak Kantauriko itsasoaren gazitasuna dauka.
Nire garrasiak Mediterraneoaren olatuek
atzerriko haitzen aurka talka egitean sortzen duten soinua dira.
Nire mezu elektronikoek Tamesisaren sakontasunaren
usain abjectoa daramate lerrotartean.
**
Lau hilabete daramatzat
egunero amarekin hizketan
hamarkada oso bat elkarri deitu gabe
pasa ondoren
Beste munduz tindatutako hitzak zuzentzen dizkit.
Lau hilabete daramatzat
bakarrik ibiltzen
pixkanaka txikitzen den hiri honetan
Inoiz jaio ez nintzen lekuetan aurkitzen naiz.
**
Balkoiko bankuaren egurra
kirrinka egiten du
nire gurasoen kulunkaulkia bezala.
Biek euri asko edan dute.
Iruñean eta Londresen
euria egin behar duen guztietan
egiten du euri.
Kulunkatzen duten jendea baino hobeto
ulertzen dute elkar zeruak eta kriskitinak.
**
Goiz batzuetan nire gorputzak
nire amak ni txikia nintzenean zeukan usaina dauka
egun horietan ez dut dutxa hartzen eta olerkiak idazten ditut
Goiz batzuetan nire gorputzak
Tinderren ezagututako maitale ingelesaren usaina dauka
Egun horietan Lush-ekin dutxatzen naiz eta “phrasal verbs” erabiltzen ditut.
**
Nire poesiak Kantauriko itsasoaren gazitasuna dauka.
Nire garrasiak Mediterraneoaren olatuek
atzerriko haitzen aurka talka egitean sortzen duten soinua dira.
Nire mezu elektronikoek Tamesisaren sakontasunaren
usain abjectoa daramate lerrotartean.
Published May 26, 2022
© Beatriz Chivite 2021
Poetry and phrasal verbs
Written in Basque by Beatriz Chivite
Translated into English by Beatriz Chivite
My poetry has the saltiness of the Cantabric sea.
My screams sound like Mediterranean waves
against a foreign shore.
My emails have the abject scent
of depths of this Thames.
**
I’ve been four months
talking to my mother every night
after a whole decade
without calling her.
She corrects me words tinged with other worlds.
I’ve been four months
walking alone in this city
that slowly shrinks.
I find myself where I was never born.
**
The creaking of the wooden balcony bench
resembles my parents’ rocking chair.
Both have drunk lots of rain and beer
in Pamplona and in London
it always rains
when it has to rain.
The sky and the crackling wood understand each other
better than people they rock.
**
There are mornings that my body smells
as my mother smelled when I was little.
Those days I don’t take a shower and write poems
There are mornings that my body smells
to the English lover I met on Tinder.
Those days I shower with Lush and. use ‘phrasal verbs’
**
My poetry has the saltiness of the Cantabric sea
My screams sound like Mediterranean waves
against a foreign shore
My emails have the abject scent
of depths of this Thames.
Published May 26, 2022
© Beatriz Chivite 2021
Poesia e phrasal verbs
Written in Basque by Beatriz Chivite
Translated into Italian by Beatriz Chivite
La mia poesia è salata come il mare Cantabrico.
Le mie urla sono le onde del Mediterraneo
quando si infrangono contro una sponda straniera.
Le mie e-mail hanno l’odore strano
delle profondità di questo Tamigi.
**
Ho passato quattro mesi
a parlare con mia madre tutte le sere
dopo un intero decennio senza chiamarla.
Mi corregge parole tinte d’altri mondi.
Ho passato quattro mesi
a camminare da sola in questa città
che lentamente si rimpicciolisce.
Mi ritrovo dove non sono mai nata.
**
Lo scricchiolio della panca di legno del balcone
è lo stesso della sedia a dondolo dei miei genitori.
Entrambi hanno bevuto molta pioggia e tanta birra.
A Pamplona e a Londra
piove ogni volta che deve piovere.
Il cielo e il legno si capiscono
meglio delle persone che cullano.
**
Ci sono mattine in cui il mio corpo ha lo stesso odore
di mia madre quando ero piccola.
Quei giorni non faccio la doccia e scrivo poesie.
Ci sono mattine in cui il mio corpo ha l’odore
dell’amante inglese che ho trovato su Tinder.
Quei giorni mi lavo con Lush e uso i “phrasal verbs”.
**
La mia poesia è salata come il mare Cantabrico.
Le mie urla sono le onde del Mediterraneo
quando si infrangono contro una sponda straniera.
Le mie e-mail hanno l’odore strano
delle profondità di questo Tamigi.
Published May 26, 2022
© Beatriz Chivite 2021
Poesía y phrasal verbs
Written in Basque by Beatriz Chivite
Translated into Spanish by Beatriz Chivite
Mi poesía está cubierta del salitre del Cantábrico.
Mis gritos son las olas del Mediterráneo
cuando rompen contra una costa extranjera.
Mis emails tienen el olor abyecto
de las profundidades de este Támesis.
**
Llevo cuatro meses
hablando con mi madre todas las noches
después de toda una década sin llamarla.
Me corrige palabras teñidas de otros mundos.
Llevo cuatro meses
caminando sola en esta ciudad
que poco a poco se encoge.
Me encuentro donde nunca nací.
**
El crujido del banco del balcón de madera
se parece al de la mecedora de mis padres.
Ambos han bebido mucha lluvia y cerveza.
En Pamplona y en Londres
llueve siempre que tiene que llover.
El cielo y la madera se entienden
mejor que la gente que mecen.
**
Hay mañanas que mi cuerpo huele
como olía mi madre cuando yo era pequeña.
Esos días no me ducho y escribo poemas.
Hay mañanas que mi cuerpo huele
al amante inglés que conocí en Tinder.
Esos días me lavo con Lush y uso ‘phrasal verbs’
**
Mi poesía está cubierta del salitre del Cantábrico.
Mis gritos suenan como las olas del Mediterráneo
cuando rompen contra una costa extranjera.
Mis emails tienen el olor abyecto
de las profundidades de este Támesis.
Published May 26, 2022
© Beatriz Chivite 2021
Puisi dan phrasal verb
Written in Basque by Beatriz Chivite
Translated into Indonesian by Qissera El Thirfiarani
Puisiku terasa asin seperti Laut Kantabria
Teriakanku seperti gelombang laut Mediterania
saat terhempas pada pantai asing.
Surelku beraroma aneh
dari kedalaman sungai Thames.
**
Empat bulan lamanya
kubicara dengan ibuku setiap malamnya,
setelah satu dekade
tanpa menelponnya.
Ia mengoreksiku kata-kata yang diwarnai dengan dunia lain.
Empat bulan lamanya
aku berjalan sendiri di kota ini,
yang lambat laun menciut.
Kutemukan diriku di mana aku tak pernah lahir.
**
Derit kursi kayu di balkon
serupa dengan kursi goyang orangtuaku.
Keduanya telah minum banyak hujan dan banyak bir.
Di Pamplona dan di London
selalu hujan
ketika harus hujan.
Langit dan dentur kayu saling mengerti,
bahkan lebih baik dari orang-orang yang di pangkuan mereka.
**
Terdapat pagi hari ketika tubuhku berbau
seperti ibuku ketika ku kecil.
Itulah hari-hari di mana aku tidak mandi dan menulis puisi.
Terdapat pagi ketika tubuhku berbau
kekasih Inggris yang kukenal di Tinder.
Itulah hari-hari aku mandi dengan Lush dan menggunakan “phrasal verbs”.
**
Puisiku terasa asin seperti Laut Kantabria
Teriakanku seperti gelombang laut Mediterania
saat terhempas pada pantai asing.
Surelku beraroma aneh
dari kedalaman sungai Thames.
Published May 26, 2022
© Specimen 2022
Other
Languages
I was born in the Basque country, Northern Spain in 1991, surrounded by the Pyrenees and the Cantabric Sea, yet not far from the Mediterranean. I was brought up by a family of poets who fed me books and songs until I left home at the age of 16. I came to London to study Chinese at SOAS in 2010, when London was a pool where all of us Europeans gathered. After graduating, I worked in Asia for several years, but I always wanted to come back to this city I was still calling home –London.
I started writing poetry during my year abroad in Beijing- I was very far from home, I had no one to talk my language (Basque) with and I felt that after 5 year abroad I was slowly losing it. As Basque had been for a long time an endangered language I could not let losing it within me, ‘a language is not lost because those who don’t know it don’t learn it, but because those who know it don’t use it’. Thus I started writing to keep closer to my childhood roots, creating a world of language intimacy in my poetry.
Here in the UK I’m surrounded by all the languages I had the pleasure to learn around my years abroad: I speak Spanish with my Argentinian flatmate, Chinese with the friends I met in Hong Kong that recently moved to the UK, Italian with my neighbours, Basque with my mother (on the phone) and my notebook, and English with all the rest of the people around. In that multiplicity of words, I feel comfortably at home and it could not happen anywhere else but here – in London.
The poem here aims to represent that mix of sounds, smells and belongings that are represented in my small grammar mistakes, accents, thoughts, misunderstandings and emotional contexts attached to particular words dancing together in my mind.
– Beatriz Chivite
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