Martin Chudík (1988, Bratislava) je slovenský básnik, textár a recenzent.
Je členom Spolku slovenských spisovateľov, Slovenského centra PEN, redakčnej rady časopisu pre mladú literatúru a umenie Dotyky a zakladajúcim členom Bratislavského literárneho klubu BRAK, ktorý združuje mladé talenty a začínajúcich spisovateľov v hlavnom meste Slovenska. Debutoval básnickou zbierkou Ukryté v dotykoch (Vydavateľstvo Spolku slovenských spisovateľov, 2013), za ktorú získal Cenu Ivana Kraska za najlepší debut autorov do 35 rokov a druhé miesto v ankete časopisu Knižná revue – Debut roka 2013. V roku 2015 vydal druhú zbierku básní Cestovný (ne)poriadok. V auguste 2018 uvidela svetlo literárneho sveta jeho ďalšia básnická zbierka Precitnúť a koncom roka 2020 ostatná zbierka básní
Za tajomstvom očí (všetky vyšli v rovnakom vydavateľstve). Jeho básne boli publikované v antológii Slovenského centra PEN, Dialóg s básňou (Slovenské centrum PEN, 2018), v antológiách súčasnej slovenskej a českej poézie, Refrény času (Spolok slovenských spisovateľov, 2018) a Most z veršov (Česká citadela, 2018) a v mnohých literárnych periodikách. Jeho tvorba bola preložená do rumunčiny, angličtiny a bulharčiny.

Martin Chudík (1988, Bratislava) is a Slovak poet, lyricist and reviewer.
He is a member of the Slovak Writers´ Association, the Slovak PEN Center, the editorial board of the magazine for young literature and art Dotyky and a founding member of the Bratislava literary club BRAK, which brings together young talents and beginning writers in the Slovak capital city. He debuted with the collection of poems called Ukryté v dotykoch (Publisher of the Slovak Writers´ Association, 2013), for which he won The Ivan Krasko award for the best debut of authors under 35 and second place in the Knižná revue magazine – Debut of the Year 2013. In 2015 he published the second collection of poems called Cestovný (ne)poriadok. In August 2018, his next collection of poems called Precitnúť was published, and at the end of 2020, another collection of poems called Za tajomstvom očí, saw the light of the literary world (all the books were published by the same publisher). His poems have also been published in the anthology of the Slovak PEN Center, Dialóg s básňou (Slovak PEN Center, 2018), in the anthologies of contemporary Slovak and Czech poetry, Refrény času (Slovak Writers’ Association, 2018) and Most z veršov (Czech citadel, 2018) and in many literary periodicals. His poems have been translated into Romanian, English and Bulgarian language.

Prekroč ma

Prekroč ma

Stal som sa riekou, ktorá mrazí,
ruky mám tvrdé, z kameňa,
drvím v nich vlny vlastnej skazy,
keď vo mne tiene pramenia.

Cezo mňa postav lávku z dreva,
prekroč ma, kým si pamätám,
prečo sa jeden v druhom zlieva
a kam sa vlieva každý sám.

Step Over Me

I have become a frozen river,
my hands are hard, they’re stony things;
I crush the waves of my own ruin,
as shadows gush from me like springs.

Erect a wooden footbridge through me,
step over me, while I recall
why one is alloyed in another
and where each flows, alone of all.

Translated by: John Minahane

Treci dincolo de mine

În rîu de gheaţă-ncet m-am preschimbat,
şi mîinile mi-s dure – pietre sumbre
strivind cu sete valu-mi depravat,
cînd izvorăsc din mine numai umbre.

Din lemn ridică-ţi punte în amurg,
treci rîul, pînă n-am să uit, se pare,
de ce ei unul către altul curg
şi în ce rîu se varsă fiecare.

Traducerea poemelor: Mircea Dan Duță

Kamplnka v poli

Kaplnka v poli

cez pooranú kožu
sa k nej vraciaš
do vrások sadíš modlitby
a dúfaš že hrdzavé klince
zabodnuté v hrdle
zmenia svoje skupenstvo

ešte stále čakáš
sovy odbili polnoc
tvojho rozpadu
a z pórov vyteká krv
ktorú si v sebe zaprel

Field Chapel

through furrowed skin
you go back there
and plant prayers in the creases
and hope that the rusty nails
stuck in the throat
will change their solid state

still you keep waiting
owls have struck the midnight
of your decay
and your pores leak the blood
that you inwardly denied

Translated by: John Minahane

Capela de pe cîmp

prin pielea brăzdată
te întorci către ea
sădeşti rugăciuni în adîncurile ridurilor
sperînd că acele cuie ruginite
înfipte în gît
îşi vor schimba starea de agregare

aştepţi în continuare
bufniţele au bătut miezul de noapte
al descompunerii tale
iar din pori ţîşneşte sîngele
pe care-n tine însuţi l-ai tăgăduit

Traducerea poemelor: Mircea Dan Duță

Modrý snieh

Modrý sneh

keď sa zotmie
sneh zatají dych
zmodrie

možno len čaká
kým sa končekmi prstov
dotkneš krehkých vločiek

aby aj padlým anjelom
bolo raz odpustené

Blue Snow

when darkness falls
the snow will hold its breath
turn blue

maybe it’s only waiting
for you to touch the frail flakes
with your fingertips

so that even fallen angels
may in time be forgiven

Translated by: John Minahane

Zăpadă albastră

cînd se va întuneca,
zăpada îşi va ţine respiraţia
se va albăstri

poate că aşteaptă numai să vadă
pînă cînd vei atinge gingaşii fulgi de nea
cu vîrfurile degetelor

pentru ca măcar o dată să li se ierte păcatele
şi îngerilor căzuţi

Traducerea poemelor: Mircea Dan Duță

Na siedmy den

Na siedmy deň

na sklonku siedmeho dňa
zapálil sviečku a počkal
kým celá dohorí

dlaňami zamkol ťažký vzduch
do jednej roviny
ruky mu klesli na stôl
a splynuli s vráskavým drevom

vzduch bol náhle
o plytký dych redší

For the Seventh Day

at the tail-end of the seventh day
he lit a candle and waited
till it burned right through

he locked the heavy air
in a single plane with his palms
his hands drooped on the table
and fused with the wrinkly wood

the air was suddenly
thinner by a shallow breath

Translated by: John Minahane

În ziua a şaptea

cînd a asfinţit ziua a şaptea
el a aprins o lumînare şi a aşteptat
să ardă toată
a ferecat aerul greu
i-a făcut culcuş între palme
mîinile i-au alunecat şi s-au făcut una
cu masa din lemn plină de crăpături

şi dintr-odată un ră(suflet) uşor
a rarefiat aerul

Traducerea poemelor: Mircea Dan Duță

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