Sul Campo Del Mare - Vilenica

V2-2010.PM5956/13/100, 12:13 PMExercise in Automatic Breathingagain I write,morning, noon, night,exercise automatic writinga series of thoughts and metaphorswithout responsibilitywithout ambition to lastpoems without hanged menwithout the dead relativeswithout the scented skins of lovers,flowers and bushes,bereftand emptya failed attempt at resuscitationpaper doesn’t crack under one’s palmslike ribs or breastbonebooks do not start to smell after deaththey are only covered by dust and stainsfrom coffee or teano one is irreplaceableat night I dream, in the morning the meaning is revealedto me: the trick is not in being exceptional, it is much simpler:being irreplaceable for somebody –it does not have to be Tuscany, it does not have to be summer,it does not even have to lastthis is the hardest, so I exerciseone breath at a timeVeronika DintinjanaTranslated by the authorwith Ciaran O’ Driscoll and Rose Aasen Rojas95