top of page
  • Writer's pictureCorbin Allardice

1st Nadirism: The Epigraph

Updated: Nov 16, 2020

When my flesh is consumed, my blood dried, my bones whittled down--then I will become fine literature: perfumed as the withered grasses; clear as the clarinet’s cry; wonderful with the wonders of a shadow who speaks from the earth itself.

Perhaps then people, just a few, will feel my life--as if tasting a forest razed in its youth.


Az mayn fleysh vet zayn fartsert, mayn blut oysgetriknt, mayne beyner opgeshlayft,--demolt vel ikh tsu fayner literatur vern: duftik vi a farvyanet grezl; klor vi dos kol fun a klarnet; vunderlekh mit dem vunder fun a shotn vos redt fun der erd aroys.

Demolt veln efsher a teyl menthsn mayn lebn derfiln--vi der tam fun a vald vos hot yung opgebrent.


By Moyshe Nadir

Translated by Corbin Allardice

Recent Posts

See All

Comentarios


bottom of page