Poem
Branko Maleš
Crystal
hills are of steel combs
whose tunics are cuneal tongues
metal — you battered rug!
like a rubble the clay splayed
the cracks stuff themselves on candle
in the dark ice of esophagus
bees line up
photonic hive is — a leathery word
in which darkness comes together
on an ashy meadow!
with it peasants comb their swords
and their words are listened like herbal letters
in the morning lather
a face flies
everything happens like in a white sail
and the lather’s risen — like a lace a curl
like frost sizzles the rope pikes
a fingernail of silver brakes bit by bit
an owl and a pot steaming by the brook
the brook — the staff of winter
merchants whose slanted eyes
speak loudly and carry the saddlebags of
young algebra — and rug’s ears
to the strained skin
oh silo, how you glisten
like a salmon
colossus of letters!
like a stranger — the oil spills over porcelain
© Translation: 2007, Tomislav Kuzmanović
Kristal
Kristal
brda su čeličnih češljeva
čije su tunike klinasti jezici
kovino – krpo prolupana!
ko razvalina glina se razlila
pukotine žderu svijeću
u tamnom ledu jednjaka
naslagane su pčele
fotonsko je saće – kožnata riječ
gdje se sabire mrak
na čađavoj livadi!
seljaci od toga češljaju mačeve
koji se slušaju kao biljna štiva
u jutarnjoj sapunici
leti lice
ko u bijeloj jedrilici sve se događa
i usta pjena – ko čipka kovrča
ko mraz šišti uže štuke
nokat srebra puca po kat
ćuk i ćup puše se uz potok
potok – kolac zime
trgovci čije kose oči
glasno govore o nategnutoj koži
u bisagama nose mladu algebru
- i uši saga
o, blistav si silos
ko losos
kolos slova!
ko uljez – prospe se ulje po porculanu
© 2002, Branko Maleš
From: Sjajno ništa - izbor iz poezije 1978 - 1998
Publisher: Lunapark, Zagreb
From: Sjajno ništa - izbor iz poezije 1978 - 1998
Publisher: Lunapark, Zagreb
Poems
Poems of Branko Maleš
Close
Crystal
hills are of steel combs
whose tunics are cuneal tongues
metal — you battered rug!
like a rubble the clay splayed
the cracks stuff themselves on candle
in the dark ice of esophagus
bees line up
photonic hive is — a leathery word
in which darkness comes together
on an ashy meadow!
with it peasants comb their swords
and their words are listened like herbal letters
in the morning lather
a face flies
everything happens like in a white sail
and the lather’s risen — like a lace a curl
like frost sizzles the rope pikes
a fingernail of silver brakes bit by bit
an owl and a pot steaming by the brook
the brook — the staff of winter
merchants whose slanted eyes
speak loudly and carry the saddlebags of
young algebra — and rug’s ears
to the strained skin
oh silo, how you glisten
like a salmon
colossus of letters!
like a stranger — the oil spills over porcelain
© 2007, Tomislav Kuzmanović
From: Sjajno ništa - izbor iz poezije 1978 - 1998
From: Sjajno ništa - izbor iz poezije 1978 - 1998
Crystal
hills are of steel combs
whose tunics are cuneal tongues
metal — you battered rug!
like a rubble the clay splayed
the cracks stuff themselves on candle
in the dark ice of esophagus
bees line up
photonic hive is — a leathery word
in which darkness comes together
on an ashy meadow!
with it peasants comb their swords
and their words are listened like herbal letters
in the morning lather
a face flies
everything happens like in a white sail
and the lather’s risen — like a lace a curl
like frost sizzles the rope pikes
a fingernail of silver brakes bit by bit
an owl and a pot steaming by the brook
the brook — the staff of winter
merchants whose slanted eyes
speak loudly and carry the saddlebags of
young algebra — and rug’s ears
to the strained skin
oh silo, how you glisten
like a salmon
colossus of letters!
like a stranger — the oil spills over porcelain
© 2007, Tomislav Kuzmanović
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