Poem
Tomaž Šalamun
The Circle and the Circle’s Argument
IFlower, yellow
flower,
who gave you milk?
II
The night is violet,
thorns are white, blood not blood.
Now it flows toward the sneaker,
it lies on the ground,
I sit.
Where is the turning point, where is
the law that binds blood, that drips
to blood, that lies on the parquet?
Blood, are you on the floor?
Wood, do you feel?
III
I bite you, all of you, dust.
A stone comes flying into the chestnut tree.
These human hands cut the wheat,
caress and beat the cows.
Millions and millions and millions
of rivers for a white circle
no bigger than my finger.
The Alsatian’s house collapses.
The bell’s skirt curls up.
Red! How?
Are you on the way? Are you on the way
by foot into the eye?
Does the sun send you? Does it
give you a push?
IV
I do not forget your name,
windhover.
I do not know you.
Among birds
I would not recognize you.
Nature digs into
my mirror’s metal.
Laugh!
Through the Thousand and One
Nights I see cabbage.
The cold comes down from the clouds.
V
Mama!
Down there, in the ditch
a man sleeps on his back.
Strangle God so he can sleep in peace.
Get some rest.
Air enters the skin.
Doesn’t stop until it dies.
Air squeezes through.
Doesn’t stop until razor
sharp.
VI
I am a woman.
With a pencil I draw on thin
sheets of paper.
I pierce the paper’s soul.
Only the oak chests I coat with lacquer.
Little ants from my back are now in my fist.
They buzz inside my fist.
Warm here, cold there.
Who uprooted them?
The tunnel is a whistle.
Grow, become a giant,
two giants.
Your body will cover the shepherd’s soul.
VII
Good wishes invent only trains.
Only on the first day does the Lord travel inside them.
Only if the Lord stands up, if he
expands, if the windows and the metal casing
blend with grass (the unwounded), can memory
persist. Memory is touch. Touch is
eternity.
Geniuses are kilos of pain inside the earth’s bosom.
It screams with joy. It hugs. Through it
the real music is heard.
Let us kill the peacock that is not guilty.
To kill the guilty one, the wolf, would mean
to miss a chance.
This is how I see the blossom, to give us resin.
The tree trunks will take revenge on me, all the tree trunks.
Ever since I’ve been on this earth, they’ve bled
for nothing.
VIII
Stop, drop it!
Who gives the seed the right to grow?
I do.
This is why I shiver.
I am an animal.
I lie on my back.
Tongues of flame exit my head.
You should say if I am the sacred cow.
I am mute as a sphere.
Of all things, death is the mildest.
Water captures it.
I am the water.
IX
To be God is first class.
Those who don’t know me by heart will be erased.
I breathe the same air you breathe.
Green for me is green for you.
My throat constricts.
I don’t understand why I was chosen.
Brothers, come help me.
Snails, titmice, crickets, cicadas,
flies, woodpeckers, sparrows.
Come help me, water, which you, blackbird,
carry in your beak.
I saw you when you drank.
I saw you when you drank.
It did not make you burst.
The water made me explode. I exploded.
I am the x ray of the white magnolia.
X
Leave the ladder, you’ll never catch up with me.
I would like to give you everything, really everything.
Grease, skin, hair, eyes, tongue,
nails, juice, blood. I would like for us to go
together, I really would.
Believe me.
I do not understand, why me.
Only for Nijinski was it also this way.
Lion, how are you? They put you in a cage!
The madman’s a vapor.
The madman’s a vapor.
Kill me, I circle your madness!
I take everything from everyone because I’m God.
To be God is first class.
Do you understand the title now?
It’s provisional.
The real one is
MURDER.
© Translation: 2004, Peter Richards and Ana Jelnikar
From: Ninth Letter
From: Ninth Letter
Krog in dokaz kroga
Krog in dokaz kroga
IRoža, rumena
roža,
kdo ti je dal mleko?
II
Noč je vijoličasta,
trni so beli
in kri ni kri.
Zdaj teče proti copati,
leži na tleh,
jaz sedim.
Kje je obrat, kje je
zakon med krvjo, ki kaplja in
krvjo, ki leži na parketu?
Si na tleh, kri?
Čutiš les?
III
Grizem te, vas, prah.
V kostanj prileti kamen.
Te človeške roke so kosile žito,
božale in teple krave.
Milijoni in milijoni in milijoni
rek za bel krog,
nič večji kot moj prst.
Zruši se uta volčjaka.
Zvonu se zaviha krilo.
Rdeče! Kako?
Prideš? Prideš peš v oko?
Te sonce pošlje? Ti da
sunek?
IV
Nisem ti pozabil imena,
postovka.
Ne vem, kdo si.
Ne bi te več
razpoznal med ptiči.
Narava se mi zarije v
kovino v ogledalu.
Smejte se!
Skozi Tisoč in eno
noč vidim zelje.
Mraz prihaja od oblakov.
V
Mama!
Spodaj, v jarku,
človek spi na hrbtu!
Zadúši boga, da bo lahko mirno spal,
spočij se.
Zrak gre v kožo.
Ne jenja, dokler ne umre.
Zrak se cedi.
Ne jenja, dokler ne postane oster kot
britev.
VI
Ženska sem.
S svinčnikom rišem na tenke
papirje.
Papirjem prebadam dušo.
Samo skrinje premažem z lakom.
Mravljince po hrbtu sem dal v pest.
Brnijo v pesti.
Tu so topli, tam so mrzli.
Kdo jih je izkoreninil?
Tunel je piščalka.
Zrasi, postani velikan,
dva velikana.
Zakril boš s telesom dušo pastirja.
VII
Dobre želje izumljajo samo vlake.
Samo prvi dan se vozi v njih gospod.
Samo, če gospod vstane, če se
razširi, če se okna in kovina ohišja
zlijejo s travo (ne ranjeno), ostane
spomin. Spomin je dotik. Dotik je
večnost.
Geniji so kile bolečine v nedrih zemlje.
Vriska. Stiska se. Skozi
njo se sliši prava muzika.
Ubijmo pava, ki ni kriv.
Ubiti krivca, volka, bi pomenilo
zamuditi priložnost.
Tako vidim cvet, da da smolo.
Debla se mi bodo maščevala, vsa debla.
Odkar sem jaz na svetu, krvavijo
zastonj.
VIII
Ustavi se, nehaj!
Kdo daje semenu pravico, da vzklije?
Jaz.
Za to me stresa drget.
Žival sem.
Na hrbtu ležim.
Zublji mi gredo iz glave.
Vi povejte, če sem sveta krava.
Nem sem tako kot krogla.
Smrt je najblažja med vsemi stvarmi.
Voda jo zajame.
Jaz sem voda.
IX
Biti bog je prvi razred.
Kdor me ne bo znal na pamet, bo zbrisan.
Isti zrak diham kot vi.
Zelena je zame ista zelena.
V grlu me davi.
Ne razumem, zakaj sem izbran.
Pridite mi na pomoč, bratje!
Polži, sinice, črički, kobilice,
muhe, vrabčki, detli.
Pridi mi na pomoč voda, ki jo nosiš
ti, kos, v kljunu.
Videl sem te, ko si pil.
Videl sem te, ko si pil.
Ni te raznesla.
Mene voda raznaša, me je raznesla.
Jaz sem rentgenski žarek bele magnolije.
X
Pustite lestve, ne boste me dohiteli.
Rad bi vam dal vse, res vse.
Mast, kožo, dlake, oči, jezik,
nohte, sok, kri. Rad bi, da bi šli
skupaj, rad bi.
Verjemite mi.
Jaz zares ne razumem, zakaj jaz.
Samo pri Nižinskem je bilo isto.
Kako si lev? Dali so te v kletko!
Norec so hlapi.
Norec so hlapi.
Ubij me, norost ti obkoljujem!
Vsakemu obkolim vse, ker sem bog.
Biti bog je prvi razred.
Razumeš zdaj naslov?
Začasen je.
Pravi naslov je
UMOR.
© 1980, Tomaž Šalamun
From: Maske
Publisher: Ljubljana, Mladinska knjiga
From: Maske
Publisher: Ljubljana, Mladinska knjiga
Poems
Poems of Tomaž Šalamun
Close
The Circle and the Circle’s Argument
IFlower, yellow
flower,
who gave you milk?
II
The night is violet,
thorns are white, blood not blood.
Now it flows toward the sneaker,
it lies on the ground,
I sit.
Where is the turning point, where is
the law that binds blood, that drips
to blood, that lies on the parquet?
Blood, are you on the floor?
Wood, do you feel?
III
I bite you, all of you, dust.
A stone comes flying into the chestnut tree.
These human hands cut the wheat,
caress and beat the cows.
Millions and millions and millions
of rivers for a white circle
no bigger than my finger.
The Alsatian’s house collapses.
The bell’s skirt curls up.
Red! How?
Are you on the way? Are you on the way
by foot into the eye?
Does the sun send you? Does it
give you a push?
IV
I do not forget your name,
windhover.
I do not know you.
Among birds
I would not recognize you.
Nature digs into
my mirror’s metal.
Laugh!
Through the Thousand and One
Nights I see cabbage.
The cold comes down from the clouds.
V
Mama!
Down there, in the ditch
a man sleeps on his back.
Strangle God so he can sleep in peace.
Get some rest.
Air enters the skin.
Doesn’t stop until it dies.
Air squeezes through.
Doesn’t stop until razor
sharp.
VI
I am a woman.
With a pencil I draw on thin
sheets of paper.
I pierce the paper’s soul.
Only the oak chests I coat with lacquer.
Little ants from my back are now in my fist.
They buzz inside my fist.
Warm here, cold there.
Who uprooted them?
The tunnel is a whistle.
Grow, become a giant,
two giants.
Your body will cover the shepherd’s soul.
VII
Good wishes invent only trains.
Only on the first day does the Lord travel inside them.
Only if the Lord stands up, if he
expands, if the windows and the metal casing
blend with grass (the unwounded), can memory
persist. Memory is touch. Touch is
eternity.
Geniuses are kilos of pain inside the earth’s bosom.
It screams with joy. It hugs. Through it
the real music is heard.
Let us kill the peacock that is not guilty.
To kill the guilty one, the wolf, would mean
to miss a chance.
This is how I see the blossom, to give us resin.
The tree trunks will take revenge on me, all the tree trunks.
Ever since I’ve been on this earth, they’ve bled
for nothing.
VIII
Stop, drop it!
Who gives the seed the right to grow?
I do.
This is why I shiver.
I am an animal.
I lie on my back.
Tongues of flame exit my head.
You should say if I am the sacred cow.
I am mute as a sphere.
Of all things, death is the mildest.
Water captures it.
I am the water.
IX
To be God is first class.
Those who don’t know me by heart will be erased.
I breathe the same air you breathe.
Green for me is green for you.
My throat constricts.
I don’t understand why I was chosen.
Brothers, come help me.
Snails, titmice, crickets, cicadas,
flies, woodpeckers, sparrows.
Come help me, water, which you, blackbird,
carry in your beak.
I saw you when you drank.
I saw you when you drank.
It did not make you burst.
The water made me explode. I exploded.
I am the x ray of the white magnolia.
X
Leave the ladder, you’ll never catch up with me.
I would like to give you everything, really everything.
Grease, skin, hair, eyes, tongue,
nails, juice, blood. I would like for us to go
together, I really would.
Believe me.
I do not understand, why me.
Only for Nijinski was it also this way.
Lion, how are you? They put you in a cage!
The madman’s a vapor.
The madman’s a vapor.
Kill me, I circle your madness!
I take everything from everyone because I’m God.
To be God is first class.
Do you understand the title now?
It’s provisional.
The real one is
MURDER.
© 2004, Peter Richards and Ana Jelnikar
From: Ninth Letter
From: Ninth Letter
The Circle and the Circle’s Argument
IFlower, yellow
flower,
who gave you milk?
II
The night is violet,
thorns are white, blood not blood.
Now it flows toward the sneaker,
it lies on the ground,
I sit.
Where is the turning point, where is
the law that binds blood, that drips
to blood, that lies on the parquet?
Blood, are you on the floor?
Wood, do you feel?
III
I bite you, all of you, dust.
A stone comes flying into the chestnut tree.
These human hands cut the wheat,
caress and beat the cows.
Millions and millions and millions
of rivers for a white circle
no bigger than my finger.
The Alsatian’s house collapses.
The bell’s skirt curls up.
Red! How?
Are you on the way? Are you on the way
by foot into the eye?
Does the sun send you? Does it
give you a push?
IV
I do not forget your name,
windhover.
I do not know you.
Among birds
I would not recognize you.
Nature digs into
my mirror’s metal.
Laugh!
Through the Thousand and One
Nights I see cabbage.
The cold comes down from the clouds.
V
Mama!
Down there, in the ditch
a man sleeps on his back.
Strangle God so he can sleep in peace.
Get some rest.
Air enters the skin.
Doesn’t stop until it dies.
Air squeezes through.
Doesn’t stop until razor
sharp.
VI
I am a woman.
With a pencil I draw on thin
sheets of paper.
I pierce the paper’s soul.
Only the oak chests I coat with lacquer.
Little ants from my back are now in my fist.
They buzz inside my fist.
Warm here, cold there.
Who uprooted them?
The tunnel is a whistle.
Grow, become a giant,
two giants.
Your body will cover the shepherd’s soul.
VII
Good wishes invent only trains.
Only on the first day does the Lord travel inside them.
Only if the Lord stands up, if he
expands, if the windows and the metal casing
blend with grass (the unwounded), can memory
persist. Memory is touch. Touch is
eternity.
Geniuses are kilos of pain inside the earth’s bosom.
It screams with joy. It hugs. Through it
the real music is heard.
Let us kill the peacock that is not guilty.
To kill the guilty one, the wolf, would mean
to miss a chance.
This is how I see the blossom, to give us resin.
The tree trunks will take revenge on me, all the tree trunks.
Ever since I’ve been on this earth, they’ve bled
for nothing.
VIII
Stop, drop it!
Who gives the seed the right to grow?
I do.
This is why I shiver.
I am an animal.
I lie on my back.
Tongues of flame exit my head.
You should say if I am the sacred cow.
I am mute as a sphere.
Of all things, death is the mildest.
Water captures it.
I am the water.
IX
To be God is first class.
Those who don’t know me by heart will be erased.
I breathe the same air you breathe.
Green for me is green for you.
My throat constricts.
I don’t understand why I was chosen.
Brothers, come help me.
Snails, titmice, crickets, cicadas,
flies, woodpeckers, sparrows.
Come help me, water, which you, blackbird,
carry in your beak.
I saw you when you drank.
I saw you when you drank.
It did not make you burst.
The water made me explode. I exploded.
I am the x ray of the white magnolia.
X
Leave the ladder, you’ll never catch up with me.
I would like to give you everything, really everything.
Grease, skin, hair, eyes, tongue,
nails, juice, blood. I would like for us to go
together, I really would.
Believe me.
I do not understand, why me.
Only for Nijinski was it also this way.
Lion, how are you? They put you in a cage!
The madman’s a vapor.
The madman’s a vapor.
Kill me, I circle your madness!
I take everything from everyone because I’m God.
To be God is first class.
Do you understand the title now?
It’s provisional.
The real one is
MURDER.
© 2004, Peter Richards and Ana Jelnikar
From: Ninth Letter
From: Ninth Letter
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