Tomaz SalamunSloveniaWriting1997
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I am so nostalgic about Civitella, the Paradise of my life. I was so deeply happy that I remember rivers of sounds, lights, and words. I had happy eyes, happy body, happy mind, because I was able to work so hard as a poet. I am constantly living with: how Arshile Egoyan (4 years old, my muse) once said: “Goooordon!” and with the proverb Cecilia once quoted: “ll sole bacia i belli e i brutti per consolarli.”

 

Poljubi oci Miru

Poljubi oci Miru, ki naj se razlije p0

drevesih. Sonce zunaj sije in ne buci vec

tako neznosno. Dusa upa spet zacutiti svoja

rebra, svoj sok. Mraz mi je dobro del. Ce

piha in hodim in gledam avtomobile, me

zivljenje vrne sebi. Najbolj strasno bi

bilo, ker pri odhodu ne bi nikogar spoznal.

Predalec bi bili, da bi se jih dotaknil ali

cutil. V crni temi ne bi ohranil spomina na

ljubezen. Skorja ledu se dela cez vrelo lavo.

Pocasi se bom morda lahko spet zadrsal. Hodil

po prasnih cestah. Otresel suknjic, ce bo

prasno. Prevec medu in miline je bilo, to je

vse. Od prevelikega razkosja se clovek razleti.

 

Kiss the Eyes of Peace

Kiss the eyes of Peace, may it stream down

upon the trees. The sun shines and no longer roars

so intolerably. The soul again hopes to sense its

ribs, the sap. The cold has done me good. If the wind

blows, and I walk and watch the cars, life

brings me back to itself. It would be terrible

not to recognize anyone at the departure.

They’d be too far to touch or

be felt. In the pitch darkness I would not hold the memory

of love. A crust of ice forms on molten lava.

In time I might again be able to slide off. Walk

those roads of dust. Shake the jacket off, if it’s

dusty. There has been too much honey and grace, that’s

all. Too many blessings break a man apart.