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Gedicht

Dane Zajc

Your Time

Your Time

Your Time

Time comes when there is no more time.
A footstep halts, cannot go ahead.
Eyes look at themselves,
with a gaze full of reproach.
Where have you brought me, they say.
Why are you stiff with fear.
Why locked in icy immobility.

Time comes when time is cruel.
Inexorable.
The lips frozen.
Unstirring.
And the tongue, dry from cognition,
plunges into the cavity of
the throat.

Time when you halt.
When you are the ice of your own self.
Your time.
Dane  Zajc

Dane Zajc

(Slovenië, 1929)

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Your Time

Time comes when there is no more time.
A footstep halts, cannot go ahead.
Eyes look at themselves,
with a gaze full of reproach.
Where have you brought me, they say.
Why are you stiff with fear.
Why locked in icy immobility.

Time comes when time is cruel.
Inexorable.
The lips frozen.
Unstirring.
And the tongue, dry from cognition,
plunges into the cavity of
the throat.

Time when you halt.
When you are the ice of your own self.
Your time.

Your Time

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