(no subject)

[leka-moya.livejournal.com]

I want to know if any of you know of poems about being the cruel one in love. The one who breaks up or cheats or leaves.

Here's a poem by Marta Tikkanen for you. It's from her book Århundrets Kjærlighetssaga, which is about her turbulent marriage to an alcoholic.

Før
var du ekkel og spydig
bare når du drakk

Nå er du
enda eklere og spydigere
når du er edru

En skulle tro du ikke
trengte drikke
når du kan være
ekkel allikevel

Men det er kanskje like bra
at du drikker
iblant
så slokner du i hvert fall
til slutt

My attempt at translating:

Before
you were only mean and sarcastic
when you drank

Now you are
even meaner and more sarcastic
when you're sober

One should think you wouldn't
need to drink
when you can be
so nasty anyway.

But maybe it's just as well
that you drink
sometimes
because at least
you pass out in the end.

Comments

"The Jerk" by Jeffrey McDaniel

[theotherchicago.livejournal.com]

Hey you, dragging the halo --
how about a holiday in the islands of grief?

Tongue is the word I wish to have with you.
Your eyes are so blue they leak.

Your legs are longer than a prisoner's
last night on death row.

I'm filthier than the coal miner's bathtub
and nastier than the breath of Charles Bukowski.

You're a dirty little windshield.

I'm standing behind you on the subway,
hard as calculus. My breath
be sticking to your neck like graffiti.

I'm sitting opposite you in the bar,
waiting for you to uncross your boundaries.

I want to rip off your logic
and make passionate sense to you.

I want to ride in the swing of your hips.

My fingers will dig in you like quotation marks,
blazing your limbs into parts of speech.

But with me for a lover, you won't need
catastrophes. What attracted me in the first place
will ultimately make me resent you.

I'll start telling you lies,
and my lies will sparkle,
become the bad stars you chart your life by.

I'll stare at other women so blatantly
you'll hear my eyes peeling,

because sex with you is like Great Britain:
cold, groggy, and a little uptight.

Your bed is a big, soft calculator
where my problems multiply.

Your brain is a garage
I park my bullshit in, for free.

You're not really my new girlfriend,
just another flop sequel of the first one,
who was based on the true story of my mother.

You're so ugly I forgot how to spell.

I'll cheat on you like a ninth grade math test,
break your heart just for the sound it makes.

You're the 'this' we need to put an end to.
The more you apologize, the less I forgive you.

So how about it?

Re: "The Jerk" by Jeffrey McDaniel

[peccare.livejournal.com]

whoa.

Re: "The Jerk" by Jeffrey McDaniel

[teithiwr.livejournal.com]

*blinks* DUDE.

Re: "The Jerk" by Jeffrey McDaniel

[thegreatxavier.livejournal.com]

golden.

Re: "The Jerk" by Jeffrey McDaniel

[ziarah.livejournal.com]

Woah! Wonderfully written! Thanks for sharing

[thegreatxavier.livejournal.com]

great

[mewmewmewmewmew.livejournal.com]

wow

[teithiwr.livejournal.com]

Ooh, I almost understood the original. :D (Studying Swedish in school pays off - I can almost understand Norwegian.)

[hello-marly.livejournal.com]

også mig! and i'm in the midst of learning danish.

[ziarah.livejournal.com]

This was great - I like the way you translated it as well (I'm Norwegian too)