Poem
Milko Valent
2. Sweet Thirst Or Slaves Of Freedom
wash you face already, comb your hairand describe those thousand night pictures.
variations are sweet in the same,
the humid procedures of thirst.
the proximity of death heats them up
it never extinguishes.
pioneers of a fixed mess know this,
slaves of freedom.
fix your mess, slave.
open the office for singing, writing and fucking.
put up the plate: I ordinate from 0 to 24. I’ll
be back shortly. don\'t be afraid of fatigue. you\'ll
sleep an entire three days in a row when you die.
© Translation: 2004, Miloš Đurđević
2. Slatka žeđ ili robovi slobode
2. Slatka žeđ ili robovi slobode
umij se već jednom, počešljaj sei opiši onih tisuću noćnih slika.
varijacije su slatko u istome,
vlažni postupci žeđi.
blizina smrti ih raspaljuje
nikada ne gasi.
to znaju pioniri uređenog nereda,
robovi slobode.
uredi svoj nered, ropkinjo.
otvori ured za pjevanje, pisanje i prcanje.
stavi tablicu: ordiniram od 0 – 24. vraćam se
odmah. ne boj se umora. spavat ćeš
kad umreš puna tri dana zaredom.
© 2001, Milko Valent
From: Jazz: afrička vuna
Publisher: Naklada MD, Zagreb
From: Jazz: afrička vuna
Publisher: Naklada MD, Zagreb
Poems
Poems of Milko Valent
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2. Sweet Thirst Or Slaves Of Freedom
wash you face already, comb your hairand describe those thousand night pictures.
variations are sweet in the same,
the humid procedures of thirst.
the proximity of death heats them up
it never extinguishes.
pioneers of a fixed mess know this,
slaves of freedom.
fix your mess, slave.
open the office for singing, writing and fucking.
put up the plate: I ordinate from 0 to 24. I’ll
be back shortly. don\'t be afraid of fatigue. you\'ll
sleep an entire three days in a row when you die.
© 2004, Miloš Đurđević
From: Jazz: afrička vuna
From: Jazz: afrička vuna
2. Sweet Thirst Or Slaves Of Freedom
wash you face already, comb your hairand describe those thousand night pictures.
variations are sweet in the same,
the humid procedures of thirst.
the proximity of death heats them up
it never extinguishes.
pioneers of a fixed mess know this,
slaves of freedom.
fix your mess, slave.
open the office for singing, writing and fucking.
put up the plate: I ordinate from 0 to 24. I’ll
be back shortly. don\'t be afraid of fatigue. you\'ll
sleep an entire three days in a row when you die.
© 2004, Miloš Đurđević
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