Banalybės iki begalybės

Patikrinusi lietuviškąsias naujienas internete radau, jog vyko konkursas “Nauja daina” ir laimėjo daina “Sparnai gerumo”.

Na, galvoju, pasiklausysiu, kas ten per daina. Ir, siaube tu siaube…

Suprantu, kad tai mano subjektyvi nuomonė, bet …paaiškinkit man kaip 2011aisiais metais dainos tekstas gali būti toks:

“Auga sparnai gerumo
Ant spygliuoto rožių krūmo”

arba

“Dar niekam nesakiau
Kaip gera, kai šalia tu esi
Ir niekas nežinos
Kaip ilgai tu mano širdy”

Na kai tau keturiolika, ir kai tu bandai rašyti pirmus eilėraščius, tai suprantu, kad gali gautis šitaip, bet čia… juk daina į konkursą. Ir laimėjusi daina!

Brrr.. Bandau nusiplauti tą banalybės jausmą ir skaitau tikrai gerus tekstus. Pavyzdžiui W.Szymborska

OPENNESS

Here we are, naked lovers,
beautiful to each other—and that’s enough.
The leaves of our eyelids our only covers,
we’re lying amidst deep night.

But they know about us, they know,
the four corners, and the chairs nearby us.
Discerning shadows also know,
and even the table keeps quiet.

Our teacups know full well
why the tea is getting cold.
And old Swift can surely tell
that his book’s been put on hold.

Even the birds are in the know:
I saw them writing in the sky
brazenly and openly
the very name I call you by.

The trees? Could you explain to me
their unrelenting whispering?
The wind may know, you say to me,
but how is just a mystery.

A moth surprised us through the blinds,
its wings in fuzzy flutter.
Its silent path—see how it winds
in a stubborn holding pattern.

Maybe it sees where our eyes fail
with an insect’s inborn sharpness.
I never sensed, nor could you tell
that our hearts were aglow in the darkness.

Arba

ОН ЛЮБИЛ…

Он любил три вещи на свете:
За вечерней пенье, белых павлинов
И стертые карты Америки.
Не любил, когда плачут дети,
Не любил чая с малиной
И женской истерики
…А я была его женой. (A.Achmatova)

K.Ž.G.