In Kaddish, Romanian poet Radu Vancu assumes the voice of the Hungarian Jewish poet Miklós Radnóti, who was murdered by Nazis during a forced march in May 1944 and dumped in a mass grave. In 1946, Radnóti's body was exhumed, and with him a notebook was found.
Vancu’s Kaddish imagines the contents of Radnóti's notebook, with the poet addressing his wife and remembering their times together; conversing and joking with the dead around him (including his close friend, the violinist Miklósz Lorsi, who was executed just a few days before him); and musing on the meaning of poetry. Along the way, he invokes a range of historical and literary figures, including Dante, Shelley, Borges, Freud, Schumann, and Oppenheimer. Radnoti’s mass grave is a place of bones, blood, and torture, but it also becomes the ground from which poetry emerges in its most stunning and powerful capacity: to find beauty despite the horror and to be able to resurrect the dead.
Radu Vancu is a poet, scholar, and translator who has written nine volumes of poetry, a novel, two children’s novellas, a collection of essays, and scholarly publications. He has received numerous awards for his literary works, and also edits Transilvania magazine and Poesis Internațional. He has translated works by Walt Whitman, John Berryman, and Ezra Pound into Romanian, and is the president of Sibiu’s international poetry festival. He also served as the president of PEN Romania.
Sean Cotter is the translator of many works of Romanian literature, and Professor of Literature and Translation Studies at the University of Texas at Dallas. His translation of Mircea Cărtărescu’s Solenoid (Deep Vellum, 2022) was awarded the Dublin Literary Prize, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize and the Romanian Cultural Institute prize for best translation of the year. Other books have won or been short-listed for numerous other awards. Zephyr Press published Cotter’s translations of two volumes by Romanian poet Liliana Ursu, Lightwall (2009) and Goldsmith Market (2003).
Kaddish
Kaddish
Translated from Romanian by Sean Cotter
176 pages | Bilingual on facing pages (Romanian & English)
ISBN 978-1-938890-40-6
My love after you pulled my body from the mass
grave you found in my front coat pocket the notebook
with my last poems It was wet From the wet earth And from my body
that rotted & soaked the paper You dried them in the sun You sat
by the notebook & you waited for it to dry to see if the
poems could be read I thought you watched my body
evaporate from the notebook It evaporated from the poems And it was
a little strange that poems could appear only if my body evaporated
from them It was springtime I evaporated quickly & the poems
started to appear You read them & I watched you at the same time from
the air above where I had evaporated & from the mass grave
where I was left & from the poems You didn’t cry But I did You were
surprised to see the notebook wet again You started to blow on
it On me The more the wetter the notebook got the harder You put it
in your pocket The heat of your body made me evaporate much
faster than the sun did The way sometimes I evaporated
from the sun & little death that rose together on your
face when you came When you took it back out just a minute later perfectly
dry you didn’t understand it I don’t either my love I am
looking at you from the mass grave Or maybe from
the poems In fact from both The air around you is me If
you feel the air & light suddenly make a kind of wet salt don’t
be afraid It’s just me It’s just a poem
(If the light cries at what I write
it doesn’t mean that I’m alive)
