Selected Poems

by Ekaterina Simonova

Translated from the Russian by Robin Munby

writing about a city
in which you’ve never set foot
is like trying to have a conversation
with someone who no longer loves you
so much pain lies between you
that language collapses into incomprehensible fragments:

“yes”

“no”

“good evening”

the narrow dusty doors
of the old town

a dull circle of Timurid sky
reflected in a hand mirror

broken-faced statues in a museum

a blue robe left out to dry
in an empty April courtyard

as yet another reminder
of the senselessness of tenderness and flesh


***


If you find yourself in a city
where you’ll never once be found
bring me something back,
something you never will:

a ring from the hat of a Tashkent acorn

six blue tea bowls patterned with cotton

a kuzmunchok bracelet

especially the last of these –

since

if the kuzmunchok beads break
you’ve escaped the evil eye
your worries are over
the time has come

to drop everything
and sit down to drink tea from all six bowls in turn

exchanging gifts:

sugared walnuts coated in sesame

glistening in the air
like gilded tea spoons covered in sweet crumbs

what a joy to look
and not be looked upon


***


Kamila was born in Tashkent
she lives in Nizhny Tagil now
she used to drive over to a market in Y-burg, the Taganskiy Ryad
to spend a while in that little slice of home

she doesn’t have the time anymore

Kamila tells me she could talk Tashkent for hours

now I know

that you can smoke grape vines

what kurt is

that when she was a child, their front door was never locked

that you shouldn’t yawn, or a shaytan will climb in your mouth

if you want the rice in your plov to be crumbly
you have to poke holes in it with a stick

Kamila promised to message me again later – she’s scared
I’ll get sick of her

she needn’t worry:

I know perfectly well that when it comes to what you love
you can talk for hours on end

you can talk and talk
without saying a single word
out loud


These poems were first published in Russian in the collection Два ее единственных платья (Новое литературное обозрение, 2020).

Cover photo by Julia Dragan

Kate Tsurkan