Poem
Uroš Zupan
A DETAIL
Bathed in red light,seated at a table,
alone, an unknown woman gets ready
to light a cigarette.
She opens the cigarette box,
with a habitual gesture
she takes out a cigarette and
puts it in her mouth.
With her left hand she
brushes a wisp of hair away from her face,
with her right she takes a lighter,
flicks it open with her thumb
and turns the flint wheel.
Out leaps the flame
into her eyes,
onto her hair,
with the cigarette she nears it slowly,
and sensually,
in a timeless pause
in her invisible ageing,
inhales
the first draw.
© Translation: 2000, Ana Jelnikar
DETAJL
DETAJL
V rdeci svetlobi,sedeca za mizo
sama, se neznanka pripravlja,
da si bo prizgala cigareto.
Odpre tobacnico,
z vajenim gibom vzame
iz nje cigareto,
si jo vtakne v usta.
Z levo roki si
umakne lase z obraza,
z desnico vzame vzigalnik,
ga s palcem odpre
in zavrti kolešcek.
Iz vzigalnika skoci plamen
v njene oci,
na njene lase,
s cigareto se mu pocasi pribliza
in pozeljivo,
v nekem brezcasnem predahu
med svojim neopaznim staranjem
potegne v pljuca
prvi dim.
© 1991, Uroš Zupan
From: Sutre
Publisher: Alef, Ljubljana
From: Sutre
Publisher: Alef, Ljubljana
Poems
Poems of Uroš Zupan
Close
A DETAIL
Bathed in red light,seated at a table,
alone, an unknown woman gets ready
to light a cigarette.
She opens the cigarette box,
with a habitual gesture
she takes out a cigarette and
puts it in her mouth.
With her left hand she
brushes a wisp of hair away from her face,
with her right she takes a lighter,
flicks it open with her thumb
and turns the flint wheel.
Out leaps the flame
into her eyes,
onto her hair,
with the cigarette she nears it slowly,
and sensually,
in a timeless pause
in her invisible ageing,
inhales
the first draw.
© 2000, Ana Jelnikar
From: Sutre
From: Sutre
A DETAIL
Bathed in red light,seated at a table,
alone, an unknown woman gets ready
to light a cigarette.
She opens the cigarette box,
with a habitual gesture
she takes out a cigarette and
puts it in her mouth.
With her left hand she
brushes a wisp of hair away from her face,
with her right she takes a lighter,
flicks it open with her thumb
and turns the flint wheel.
Out leaps the flame
into her eyes,
onto her hair,
with the cigarette she nears it slowly,
and sensually,
in a timeless pause
in her invisible ageing,
inhales
the first draw.
© 2000, Ana Jelnikar
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère