Wednesday, April 17, 2019

TOMAZ SALAMUN ~








From Stone



I pushed him deeper into the slope.

The water was sweet and



tepid. For centuries the winch

hasn't worked.



Sing-alongs go to dust.

Scent is powder.



Algae, handled, harnessed

first into waves,



the into shudder. Shudder, shudder,

shudder on the shore. On the



shore by the boat. When the

drum, the ring around the



the cosmos, melts. We're inside a small house.

There's a fingerbreadth of the Lord.




__________________

Tomaz Salamun
Andes
translated by Jeffrey Young and
Katarina Vladimirov Young
Black Ocean Press








No comments: