Variations on Weights and Measures
by Dominique Russell, translated from Hector de Saint-Denys Garneau
1: Weights and Measures
It’s not about pulling things by the hair
Tying a woman’s hair to a pony’s tail
Piling up the dead in a line
On the edge of a sword, on the edge of time.
Making knots with parallel lines can be amusing,
a somewhat metaphysical entertainment
the absurd not reduced to Cyrano’s nose.
But if you consider it upside down,
you glimpse suggestions of other worlds,
breakages in our world
that make holes.
You can be angry having to see holes in our world
you can be scandalized by a pierced sock, a sweater,
a glove giving you the finger.
You can demand repair.
But a hole in the world is already something
provided you hook your feet in and fall
headlong and head first
It allows you to rove and even return.
Free to measure the world on foot
step by step.
2: Mass and Plumb (Lipotranslation—e)
It’s not about pulling a thing by its hair
Attaching a woman’s hair to a tail
Piling moribund forms in an array
on contours of swords, on brinks of flow.
It can charm to knot gnarls of columns in a row
It’s a ludicrously fun abstraction,
shrinking absurdity to Cyrano’s schnoz.
But thinking about it topsy-turvy
You look at drafts of surplus worlds
You distinguish fault chains in our world
that build slots.
You can kick angrily at having to spot slots in our world
You can sustain scandal with a gap in socks, in wool clothing,
a mitt that allows a thumb to show.
You can ask for a fix.
But a gap in our world is now a thing
As long as you hook your stumps in
and fall scalp first
It allows you to stray and also go back
It can unbind you to sound a world on foot
gait by gait.
3: Lightness and Surmise (Antotranslation)
It’s about pushing emptiness through nails
Unlacing a woman’s veins from a lizard’s mane
Laying out the living in chaos
Winding roses, winding space.
It can be serious to undo partings with converging circles.
It’s a practical endeavour
reducing the truth to what’s in Christian’s ears
but if you deny it straight on
you close your eyes to denotations of the same old sky
You miss the totality of atoms
that assemble lumps.
You can be happy to miss the wholeness of our cruelty
You can be delighted by a glove, an undershirt,
a sock that hides a toe.
You can tolerate destruction.
But a whole world isn’t nothing yet.
If you avoid it with your hands and rise feet first
you can’t leave or stay.
It can constrain you to feel the world with your hands
hand over hand.
4: Loads and Calculations (Thesaurus)
It’s not roughly dragging luggage over locks
Binding a doll’s mane to a mare’s extremity
Heaping the expired in a messy array
on the border of a weapon, on the threshold of distance.
Fabricating gnarls in a side-by-side display
can be diverting, a moderately abstract amusement
the ludicrous not abridged to Cyrano’s snout.
But if you allow for it head over heels
You peep at drafts of extra realms
You survey the wreckage of the planet
that manufactures fractures.
You can be irate about being compelled to see perforations in our globe.
You can be aghast at a stabbed stocking,
a pullover, a mitten that condones an observed digit,
you are equal to asking for mending.
However a breach in the creation is by now object
As long as you angle your appendages within the boundary
And tumble in crown to begin with
It sanctions ranging and also re-entry
At liberty to grade the astral system on pedal extremities
Interval by interval.
5: Measures (Erasotranslation)
the dead
on the edge of a sword
breakages
holes
in our world
ABOUT THE CREATORs
Creator photo by Sandro Pehar
Dominique Russell is a writer, translator, and activist living in Toronto. Her work has appeared in numerous journals, including recent translations in the Hayden’s Ferry Review and original poems in the Nelligan Review. Her books include Kensington, I Remember (Russell Creek Press, 2016; 2013; 2023) and Instructions for Dreamers (Swimmers Group, 2018). She is a Franco-Ontarian who writes in English and French.
Hector de Saint-Denys Garneau (June 13, 1912 – October 24, 1943) is considered Quebec's first truly modern poet. He published one book in his lifetime—Regards et jeux dans l'espace—before retreating from publication, and due to a heart condition, from studies and public life. He continued to write privately until his untimely death at the age of 31. His influence grew after the publication of his collected works in 1949, and he is now, with Émile Nelligan, one of the most studied of Quebec poets. His work was translated into English by Bill Glassco in 1962.
Musée des beaux-arts de Sherbrooke, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons