Zbornik Mednarodnega literarnega srečanja Vilenica 2004 - Ljudmila

Novica Novaković
Angel Fall
I dream of you, Angel Fall, dream of your countless
water drops that spread over my skin and stick my hair together,
I imagine your roaring and raging, your horrific,
unspeakable fall, and I wish, oh how I wish
to stand at your feet, to throw myself from your
peak and fly like a bird to your brightest
depths, to sway down your rapids like a brig,
although the fall would shatter me into a million pieces
and throw me God knows where, maybe into the Mesozoic, maybe
into the Perseus constellation, perhaps I would change into an ibis, or
a sycamore tree, perhaps a new lake would appear in Finland
or the wind in Patagonia would suddenly blow stronger,
or maybe I would linger in the air, near you,
Angel Fall, present like the scent of mimosa, like the sound of
a trombone that would accompany your singing very, very quietly.
Translated by Špela Vintar
Delirious Beat 1
Memories of dead poets live inside me, a knot of manic
energies hides inside me, the sunny and the dark side
of humanity exist inside me, the seven wonders of the world, there are
images of contemporaries and Poe’s grotesque stories inside me,
everything is inside me, and some nothing also, I am slowly turning
into a big brass cauldron, where pleasures are blending with the sounds of
trumpets, tubas and trombones from the streets of New Orleans,
soaked with transchaoticness I catapult myself into the heart
of the naked city and I adjust my heartbeat to the rhythm of jazz,
my skin colour to ebony, my scent to the scent of the jungle
and the desert, the length of my step to the distance between planets,
a fantastic voyage that ends on the verge of infinity,
it excites me each time in a different way, just as I have always
been excited by Eastern mysticism, the warpath of
North-American Indians and voodoo rituals, just as I am
excited by subculture, underground music, black velvet
and unimaginable speed, sometimes I am tense like
a string, sometimes I vibrate and billow, sometimes I am
like a river, or like ice, but I’m always there, a bit crazy
and a bit of a genius, obsessed with naughtiness: I loiter.
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Translated by Špela Vintar