Poem
Marko Pogačar
To My Neighbors (My Flesh is a Flag Lowered This Morning)
Honey is melting in tea, completely, unlike me in youand you in classical music,
never-ending phone calls, no room when you need
a clear table, elevators that are always broken
stairs unfolding into eternity, like talking about politics,
just as someone notices that totalitarianism and democracy
differ only in the system of numbers
the picture disappears and everything starts all over again: voices seep from walls,
completely bodiless, evening descends on palms, like a miner
into a hole, still, the shoes left
at the doorstep prove that the living exist, but what does it mean to live,
as winter comes rolling like cold breath from my throat,
and builds its nest in the dark alphabet; all those hurried unknown
people with known names, afternoons split in two, like Korea,
the tea in which honey had already melted, inseparable,
and this viscous solution is love; how to get to you; how to reach you?
© Translation: 2008, Tomislav Kuzmanović
Susjedima (moje meso je jutros spuštena zastava)
Susjedima (moje meso je jutros spuštena zastava)
Med se topi u čaju, potpuno, za razliku od mene u tebii tebe u ozbiljnoj glazbi,
predugi telefonski pozivi, nikada mjesta kada trebaš
slobodan stol, uvijek pokvareni liftovi,
stepenice razmotane u beskonačnost, kao razgovor o politici,
i baš kada netko primijeti da se totalitarizam i demokracija
razlikuju samo u brojevnom sustavu
nestane slike i sve nanovo počinje: glasovi cure iz zidova,
potpuno bestjelesni, večer se spušta na dlanove, kao rudar
u jamu, ipak, cipele ostavljene
pred vratima dokazuju da postoje živi, ali što znači živjeti,
dok zima dolazi kotrljajući se kao hladni dah iz mog grla,
i svija gnijezdo u tamnom alfabetu; svi ti užurbani nepoznati
ljudi s poznatim imenom, popodne prelomljeno na dvoje, kao Koreja,
čaj u kojem je med već do kraja otopljen, nerazdvojivo,
i ta viskozna otopina je ljubav; kako stići do tebe; kako te dohvatiti?
© 2007, Marko Pogačar
From: Poslanice običnim ljudima
Publisher: Algoritam, Zagreb
From: Poslanice običnim ljudima
Publisher: Algoritam, Zagreb
Poems
Poems of Marko Pogačar
Close
To My Neighbors (My Flesh is a Flag Lowered This Morning)
Honey is melting in tea, completely, unlike me in youand you in classical music,
never-ending phone calls, no room when you need
a clear table, elevators that are always broken
stairs unfolding into eternity, like talking about politics,
just as someone notices that totalitarianism and democracy
differ only in the system of numbers
the picture disappears and everything starts all over again: voices seep from walls,
completely bodiless, evening descends on palms, like a miner
into a hole, still, the shoes left
at the doorstep prove that the living exist, but what does it mean to live,
as winter comes rolling like cold breath from my throat,
and builds its nest in the dark alphabet; all those hurried unknown
people with known names, afternoons split in two, like Korea,
the tea in which honey had already melted, inseparable,
and this viscous solution is love; how to get to you; how to reach you?
© 2008, Tomislav Kuzmanović
From: Poslanice običnim ljudima
From: Poslanice običnim ljudima
To My Neighbors (My Flesh is a Flag Lowered This Morning)
Honey is melting in tea, completely, unlike me in youand you in classical music,
never-ending phone calls, no room when you need
a clear table, elevators that are always broken
stairs unfolding into eternity, like talking about politics,
just as someone notices that totalitarianism and democracy
differ only in the system of numbers
the picture disappears and everything starts all over again: voices seep from walls,
completely bodiless, evening descends on palms, like a miner
into a hole, still, the shoes left
at the doorstep prove that the living exist, but what does it mean to live,
as winter comes rolling like cold breath from my throat,
and builds its nest in the dark alphabet; all those hurried unknown
people with known names, afternoons split in two, like Korea,
the tea in which honey had already melted, inseparable,
and this viscous solution is love; how to get to you; how to reach you?
© 2008, Tomislav Kuzmanović
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère