Contempo- rary Slovenian poetry 2 - Ljudmila

I was little,
it was loveliest
in the car, where
we were all within
arm’s reach. The lift
crunched like
a fresh sugar wafer.
We said to the children,
it’s alright, it’s alright,
and really, it didn’t hurt.
Just moments before,
I was grateful for
the experience.
Isaac
8
When Isaac sleeps
I cover his little wings,
I watch him breathe
and smell him
as though he were mine.
When Isaac waves to me
I warn him across the street,
trembling,
as though he were mine.
For I let him go,
touching wood
every day I let him go
among the beasts.
How do I say,
as though I didn’t care,
Isaac, come,
let’s climb the high mountain.
How do I search for a chopping block,
a smooth, clean chopping block
for him.
How do I take a knife
as though I didn’t care,
take a naked, grey knife—
how do I cut him off
so alive.
Isaac, come, let’s go.
The Means
Use ordinary words
and worn-out metaphors
the way I do.
Use betrayed loves
and bloody, limp hands