Translating Dean Young at Pamenar Cafe
by Dominique Russell
Peut-être pas maintenant, mais bientôt et pour toujours
à tout jamais, éternellement
I look up from my page as the man in the tree hoots
and smiles when the duck-costumed guy walks by.
Everybody ignores him, like we ignore the leaves falling,
the sliver of cloud holding up the sky,
how a sparrow cocks her head to test the risk of a crumb on a plate,
how squirrels chase one another along the wires overhead
while wasps near my cup mourn their dead queen,
the shortening days, the light that closes lazily,
inexorably, maybe not now, but soon.
We are in that soon just before forever, pretending
there’s a clear road ahead. Y’a rien à faire, y’a tout à faire,
dans ce bientôt juste avant l’après, on regarde en arrière.
Mostly the moments go into forget—who has the patience
to remember when there’s so much to run from, to —work!
And the parenthesis of sky, bird, squirrel and walking duck closes,
the pings of a work day start.
The man in the tree climbs down et je pense à toi,
pas la goutte, la mer, the stream of life we share.
L’éternel est élastique si on la prend à deux mains, je me dis,
et je commence ma journée.1
There’s nothing to be done,/ everything is to be done, in this soon/ just before the after, we look back.
The eternal is elastic if you take it in both hands, I tell myself, /and start my day.
ABOUT THE CREATOR
Dominique Russell is a Franco-Ontarian writer based in Tkaronto, Canada. From the place where the trees are standing in water she writes in English and French, sometimes at the same time. She is the author of Kensington, I Remember (Russell Creek Press, 2013; 2023) and Instructions for Dreamers (Swimmers Group, 2018). Recent and forthcoming poems can be found in The Nelligan Review and Pamenar Press.
X: @Dominiq09665303
Facebook: @dominique.russell.79