Gedicht
Meta Kušar
38.
Under the castle in a sway of elder
the day gently rocks.
Heart withdrawn into conflict.
Sensual words protect arches and baldachinos,
now that brawling faces lash
out at the homeland.
Such thieves of beauty don’t know
that a god’s line is never straight.
© Translation: 2004, Ana Jelnikar & Stephen Watts
38.
38.
Pod gradom se v bezgovem zrakuziblje dan.
Srce se umika v spopad.
Čutne besede zavarujejo oboke in baldahine,
ta čas ko skregani obrazi skačejo
naravnost v domovino.
Kradljivci lepote ne vedo,
da Božja črta ni nikoli ravna.
© 2004, Meta Kušar
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38.
Pod gradom se v bezgovem zrakuziblje dan.
Srce se umika v spopad.
Čutne besede zavarujejo oboke in baldahine,
ta čas ko skregani obrazi skačejo
naravnost v domovino.
Kradljivci lepote ne vedo,
da Božja črta ni nikoli ravna.
38.
Under the castle in a sway of elder
the day gently rocks.
Heart withdrawn into conflict.
Sensual words protect arches and baldachinos,
now that brawling faces lash
out at the homeland.
Such thieves of beauty don’t know
that a god’s line is never straight.
© 2004, Ana Jelnikar & Stephen Watts
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