torsdag 10 juli 2014

En kaféscen gav Vancouver-topping

PSTC 2014, Heat 1, Day 3
Under tredje dagen gjorde dikterna besök i städer. Kaféer, murar och tågstationer var några av miljöerna som skildrades.

Dagens sjua och dagens högsta poäng tilldelades Neşe Yaşın, Lag Cypern, för versen ur Unsent Letters. Hela dikten kan läsas här.
Det godaste kaffet fick nog Chris Hutchinson, Lag Vancouver,  sig till livs under sitt kafébesök. Jag gillade att han fick in ordet barista, samt fraserna "her voice glittery as a freshly polished spoon" och "I wished I could light her cigarette in Cinemascope", i sin dikt. Det gav honom 4 språkpoäng.

Lag Innehåll Språk Day 3 Total Heat 1
Vancouver 4 4 8 21
Cypern 7 2 9 20
Loire 3 3 6 19
Kosovo 1 1 2 17
Åland 5 0 5 16
Zuid-Holland 6 1 7 16
Sicilien 2 2 4 7


Sista dagens tema: Sommar

ÅLAND : ur Det var en gång en sandad gång / Sanna Tahvanainen


medan vinden sveper genom
det brända sommargräset
sipprar någonting ner i brunnen


LOIRE : from Spring The new-liveried year / Charles D’Orleans

The year has changed his mantle cold 
Of wind, of rain, of bitter air; 
And he goes clad in cloth of gold, 
Of laughing suns and season fair; 
No bird or beast of wood or wold 
But doth with cry or song declare 
The year lays down his mantle cold. 
All founts, all rivers, seaward rolled, 
The pleasant summer livery wear, 
With silver studs on broidered vair; 
The world puts off its raiment old, 
The year lays down his mantle cold.


CYPERN : aus Sommer 1983 / George Christodoulides

In den Strohkörben
häuften sich einzig
die Hoffnungen, saftig und prall
die er jeden Herbst zerstampfte
und vergor zu köstlichem Wein
der die Zuversicht trunken machte
und weiteres Warten sinnlos.


ZUID-HOLLAND : from April auf dem Lande / Cees Nooteboom

It was summer and winter.
The water by the river,
how it rose.
Mist between the hills.
In the valley the expensive villas,
shuttered, white and pink.
Fox and owl
hidden out of sight,
a work day for herons and mice.


KOSOVO : Tale about us / Azem Shkreli

The prime of life 
We ate unripe fruit

In the branches remained only
The bird's voice and feathers

Summer passed and all drank 
Its red wine

One got drunk, one
Fell on the horn of a goat

One clambered onto its strong-willed
Head to see what time it was

The wisest one prayed to God
And the devil not to pray for us


SICILIEN : Island / Lina La Mattina

Born an island, I want to die an island.
An island, the way the Lord made me
with all its torments and pains
but always embraced by the sea
a favored daughter of the sun.
I'm a beauty among beauties
garlanded in summer and winter.
Plebeian, proud, fragrant
I dress in thousands of colors
and with this blanket of honey and roses
I attract drones from every race and place.


VANCOUVER : from Thirteen ways of looking at a gray whale / Brad Cran

Can you believe it’s August. Can you believe 
there is a whale in English Bay. How lucky 
we are to walk through Stanley Park. My heart 
beats at the speed of birds. I’ve stopped believing 
in loneliness. Here we are. It’s summer. 
I want to be in love. 

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