Martin Reiner
czech republic
 

 


back


Martin Reiner
is the author of five books of poems and a novel, as well as critical essays and literary theory. Born in Brno, Czech Republic, in 1964,
he attended military academies and was imprisoned for eight months before re-entering civilian life, working primarily in the arts
since the 1989 revolution. Since 1992, he has been the publisher of Petrov, one of Czech Republic's premier literary publishing
houses. Recent books include Staré a jiné časy (Host, 2002) and Pohled z kavárny v Bath (Vetrné mlýny, 2007). Some of his poems
have been translated in English and published in the Backwoods Broadsides Chaplet Series, Where is the Urn? (2005), Wonders/Divas
(Poems-for-All, 2007) and No Through Road (Art Bureau, 2007).

Noční neklid

Štít sevřených úst,
za nímž se skrývají všechna slova,
jež blíží se, krok za krokem,
slyším tření jejich odřených pat o jazyk,
cítím horký dech rváčů
(jde ti pára z nosu),
ještě centimetr a...

...už tu nejsem. Spím.

Zklamaně polkneš.

Ozvou se výkřiky, řinčení poztrácených zbraní
a pak jen ticho, noční klid,
pavana za mrtvé vojáky.

 

The Quiet of the Night

Lips tight shut, a shield
concealing all the words.
The words come closer, step by step.
I sense the friction of their grazed heels against the tongue.
I smell the hot breath of the wild ones
(the steam escaping from your nose),
an inch or so more, and...

...I'm gone. Asleep.

You gulp your disappointment down.

Muffled shouts, the clanking of weapons lost.
Then silence, the quiet of the night.
A pavane for fallen soldiers.

 

     

Už nás to přešlo

Rozevlátý silon léto
splétáme do copů.
Ráno je v tramvaji
nejvíc slyšet děti.
V červené aleji
šlape čas na brzdu.
Kdo otevře dlaň,
vzlétne jako fénix.

  Our Time Has Run Out

The ripplings of summer
caught as ribbons in plaits.
In the morning tram
the children twitter.

Down the red avenue
time steps on the brake.
We open our hands
and rise like the phoenix.

     

Herna

Barvy putují,
já se nehýbu.

Červená
ve tvých kartách, Bože...

Další poker,
na který nemáš.

  Casino

The colours wander
but I am still.

There's red
in your hand, God...

Yet another game of poker
you cannot face.