Zbornik Mednarodnega literarnega srečanja Vilenica 2003 - Ljudmila
Zbornik Mednarodnega literarnega srečanja Vilenica 2003 - Ljudmila
Zbornik Mednarodnega literarnega srečanja Vilenica 2003 - Ljudmila
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A rhetorical little poem<br />
She will live and this is a motive of happiness<br />
or him here who remains hunched and conscious<br />
Of the therapeutic powers of departure's abandonments<br />
Rationalization so that that escaped can be survived<br />
But from which place and where to run, Rhetorics<br />
Talking to oneself will not renew anything<br />
Return nothing to no one neither body neither body<br />
As it becomes an incorporeal memory<br />
Even though awakened live wild young<br />
ramed by an old man's combinations of pleasure<br />
I do not think that I am writing a love poem<br />
I think I remember without distancing<br />
Into immaturity a certain story that matures<br />
rom ruins from the hell of indecision from loneliness<br />
Doctor, did you ever love, Doctor<br />
My chances are great but possibilities zero<br />
Say thus when there is no whole when missing<br />
Is that other side of that same story, Broken off<br />
Seeking its new fresh completeness<br />
inally awakened and thrown into the world<br />
As if by chance nonetheless opened a flower of womanhood<br />
rom the monologue: "What are you doing to me, What are...<br />
I will always, just, I will always..." I then interpret<br />
oreign words held as my own, foreign<br />
Truth grown into incomprehensibility<br />
I do not think that I am writing a love poem<br />
I think I remember the inessential superficialities<br />
Then why are you so professional, so<br />
Removed from the cashed lives of others<br />
On this dirty, profitable bed, Doctor?<br />
98<br />
Palimpsest (1990-1995)<br />
And a butterfly once inhabited me<br />
Mirrored peacemaker<br />
Red Admiral<br />
(Pyrameis atalanta)<br />
And gentle quickly overgrew<br />
My overtired eyes<br />
ish only just muse<br />
lyers how to be<br />
And slip smoothly<br />
To forbidden places<br />
With every stroke of the galley's oar<br />
To still love<br />
Sensual or deathly water<br />
To sadness endlessly similar<br />
All as though I would ask myself<br />
What now with solitude<br />
Of myself I demand<br />
Nothing less than the fully free<br />
The unexpected<br />
In no one's time<br />
Can nonetheless a sign be<br />
Something good and beautiful<br />
At least to those humble others<br />
Eternally resting in me?<br />
99<br />
Translated by Nikolai Jeffs
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