Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Ivan Slamnig

Walled by his arms

Walled by his arms
I suddenly bump my forehead on his backbone,
I hit my head on his ribs:
the wind is passing  
through his unhurried crackling hug
while, trying to pull myself together on his lap,
I keep on hitting myself against his vertebrae,
rubbing myself against his hip-bone
and his thigh bone:
and I know that my beloved is smiling,  
a timeless bald grin on his skull face,
his rib-costals and two ulnar bones
printing cherry marks  
on the white soft flesh of my arms,  
while his knee bones
drill at
my thighs:  
I heap up flesh
on my darling’s bones
and I dream about hot muscles
and warm surfaces
where two
become one

Walled by his arms

Zagradjena njegovim rukama
udarim celom o njegovu kraljeznicu
s glavom u njegovim rebrima:
kroz njegov tromi pucketavi zagrljaj
prolazi vjetar
i skupljajuci se u se u njegovu krilu
udaram vazda o njegove kraljeske
zuljajuci se o njegovu zdjelicu
i femur:
moj dragi znam da se smije
vjecnim celavim smijehom lubanje
i utiskuju se i ostavljaju rumene brazde
njegova rebra i ulne
o bijelo meko meso mojih ruku
njegova koljena
dubu se
na moja bedra
a ja slazem i oblikujem meso
na kosti moga dragog
mastam toplo misicje i
tople plohe
gdje se prelazi jedno u
drugo
Close

Walled by his arms

Walled by his arms
I suddenly bump my forehead on his backbone,
I hit my head on his ribs:
the wind is passing  
through his unhurried crackling hug
while, trying to pull myself together on his lap,
I keep on hitting myself against his vertebrae,
rubbing myself against his hip-bone
and his thigh bone:
and I know that my beloved is smiling,  
a timeless bald grin on his skull face,
his rib-costals and two ulnar bones
printing cherry marks  
on the white soft flesh of my arms,  
while his knee bones
drill at
my thighs:  
I heap up flesh
on my darling’s bones
and I dream about hot muscles
and warm surfaces
where two
become one

Walled by his arms

Walled by his arms
I suddenly bump my forehead on his backbone,
I hit my head on his ribs:
the wind is passing  
through his unhurried crackling hug
while, trying to pull myself together on his lap,
I keep on hitting myself against his vertebrae,
rubbing myself against his hip-bone
and his thigh bone:
and I know that my beloved is smiling,  
a timeless bald grin on his skull face,
his rib-costals and two ulnar bones
printing cherry marks  
on the white soft flesh of my arms,  
while his knee bones
drill at
my thighs:  
I heap up flesh
on my darling’s bones
and I dream about hot muscles
and warm surfaces
where two
become one
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère