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Index :: Poetics :: Tomaž Šalamun

Your poor scrotum.
Measure is the passworth.
Among horses and in army
blankets a dead boy is wrapped.

The continuation is a paper
wounded with a pin,
spurting your lost bid for life.

Ubogi tvoj skrotum.
Mera je geslo.
Med konji in v vojaških
dekah je zavit mrlič.

Nadaljevanje je z buciko
ranjen papir, ki šprica
tvojo izgubljeno življenjsko
stavo.



Translated from the Slovenian by Michael Thomas Taren and the author



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