Here I Am

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Now here I am!
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So…
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So here I am…
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(Where have you been?
We’d given up all hope…)
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So…
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So here I am!
I can’t describe these feelings…
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…these emotions…
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…these feelings…
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(You look just great, so strong and fit,
Looking at you now, I almost didn’t…
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…recognize you)
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Now…
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Now here I am! Is anything as fine
As this majestic…
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…What could be as majestic…
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…as this fine…
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(My headache’s gone, and I can breathe,
And on the whole, I feel…
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…much better)
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So…
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So here I am! There is no other earth…
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…this is the only…
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…this is the only earth…
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…there is no other…
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(Well, now you’re talking. Honestly, I was already thinking, if it’s going to be like this,
why bother to begin at all).
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Now…
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Now, here I am!
Could I have even dreamed…
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Not even in a dream…
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…just yesterday…
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(Repeat four times)
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So…
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So here I am! Hard to believe, and yet…
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Incredible…
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…but true…
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(The logs are crackling in a dying fire)
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So…
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Now here I am! I will not tire you…
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…I will not bore…
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…you…
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…you, my reader…
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Specialist at the planning department of a research institute, 54 years old.
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On her second marriage.
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Has a grown son from her first marriage.
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Fit and youthful.
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Loves to sing, plays guitar–“just for fun.”
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Around 2:30 was returning to work after her lunch break…
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(So…)
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Taxi driver, 39 years old.
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In his youth, he lifted weights, then gave it up.
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Married.
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Two children—Denis, 14, and Lada, 9.
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Around 2:30, took the car over from his partner and headed towards Domodedovo…
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(Now…)
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Teacher at a kindergarten, 24 years old.
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Height around 5’8’’ or 5’9”.
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Nice-looking, slightly overweight.
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Lives with her parents.
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Single, but apparently has a steady boyfriend.
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Around 2:30, was standing at the tram stop near the Riga train station…
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(So…)
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An actor at the drama theater, 51 years old.
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Three years ago, he suffered a massive heart attack…
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At the theater, plays mainly supporting roles.
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Around 2:30, left the theater after the rehearsal, decided to walk a couple of stops…
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(Now…)
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In a word, everything must be extremely light, almost transparent, hardly perceptible.
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Perhaps something like a rainbow.
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As for a description of the house, begin with whatever you like.
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Perhaps with the roof color.
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Or maybe a tree.
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Let’s say, an old white willow by the fence.
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Or something like when you think you pretend to be asleep, but in fact you really are
sleeping.
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Or, as if someone invisible sneaks up from behind, lays his hands on your shoulders,
and laughs with such a familiar laugh, that you couldn’t hold back your tears.
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And, obviously, that’s the reason you feel a constant presentiment of some unknown
catastrophe.
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Obviously, that’s the reason you instinctively resist any changes in your life.
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“I just can’t go on sewing back your damned half-belt every single day!”
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(She throws his coat to the floor, and suddenly begins to sob)
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However, we see very well it isn’t about the half-belt at all.
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Or, imagine that you’ve been waiting for this moment your whole life.
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So now you are trembling inside as you open the cherished door…
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In other words, it’s something like a “farewell forever” twisted in a tight spiral.
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Do you understand?
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Now here I am!
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…here I am! I will not tire you, my reader, by describing the hardships I encountered on
my journey…
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…the hardships I encountered on my journey, and my accidental companions, some of
whom were quite nice, come to think of it, and some of whom I’d rather not remember…
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…some of whom I’d rather not remember, and that completely explainable agitation and
impatience that would increase as you near the cherished goal…
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…agitation and impatience that would increase as you near the cherished goal, and
many other things…
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…many other things. And now the night visions grow vague, dissolving in the morning
fog…
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…in the morning fog, and a gang of screaming kids is rushing down the slope straight
to the river…
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…straight to the river, and the Rhine hills, castles, and vineyards are flying by…
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…castles, and vineyards are flying by, and now everything is becoming endlessly
distant: a cracked cup, a dusty stuffed squirrel, a small crystal sphere, and crumpled
sheets of paper…
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…a small crystal sphere, and crumpled sheets of paper, and there’s no reason at all to
hit the drum, which won’t resound anyway because it’s dead…
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…won’t resound anyway because it’s dead, and now the logs are crackling in a dying
fire…
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…the logs are crackling in a dying fire,
the flow of things will never stop…
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…will never stop,
we go our separate ways…
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We go our separate ways,
do not forget me.
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We go our separate ways,
do not forget me.
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We go our separate ways,
do not forget me.
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We go our separate ways, do not
forget me.

Lev Rubinstein, translated by Philip Metres and Tatiana Tulchinsky and read with Amy Breau.
Here I Am is from Catalogue of Comedic Novelties: Selected Poems of Lev Rubinstein (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2004).