Beryx decadactylus a verse translation of a poem by Krisztina Tóth
No Crime in Rhymin’
Dec 11, 2022
If it were all gibberish, as foreign as
umbrella palms in the dictionary,
distant as Tierra del Fuego on the map,
in my mind’s eye only, imaginary,
if there were between us a savage virgin land,
in its fresh waters ten-fingered fish lay,
I’d thumb the pages and happen upon
this confounding virgin language, I may,
we’d rumble like water in the bellies of hills,
dolina, uvala, polje* — you’d call to me,
but not as of the material world, rather
like a lexicon, flipped open randomly,
and I’d reply: fire baffle, flint flakes,
you’d think of lava rocks and sediment,
no story line, no longing for flesh and blood
or terra firma, no emotional impediment,
time imagined, we’d bathe peacefully
among ten-fingered fish, in lakes ephemeral,
floating out-of-body, caressed
— not by me, of course, just in general.
* dolina, uvala, polje — these appear to be Croatian or Slovenian terms for “valley, cove, field”, I kept them as they appear in the original poem. These Southern Slavic nations are neighbors of Hungary hence a natural choice for foreign terms that may be familiar to readers who travel in the region.
Krisztina Tóth is a popular contemporary Hungarian poet-author. This is my fourth translation of her works, which range from playful to deeply personal.
