Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Meta Kušar

3.

You went to eavesdrop under the willow trees.
God himself rolled with
the mist which clung to the shore.
A river with no waves.
The evening smelt of warm raisin cake.
You were happy.
As you had not been in a long time.

3.

3.

Pod vrbe si šel prisluškovat.
Sam Bog se je valil
z meglicami, ki se prijemljejo obrežja.
Reka brez vala.
Večer je dišal po topli rozinovi potici.
Bil si srečen.
Že dolgo nisi bil.
Close

3.

You went to eavesdrop under the willow trees.
God himself rolled with
the mist which clung to the shore.
A river with no waves.
The evening smelt of warm raisin cake.
You were happy.
As you had not been in a long time.

3.

You went to eavesdrop under the willow trees.
God himself rolled with
the mist which clung to the shore.
A river with no waves.
The evening smelt of warm raisin cake.
You were happy.
As you had not been in a long time.
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