Andraž Polič

Luscious smoke intoxicates me,
golden letters glitter in the ashtray
her blush, a farewell of inebriating rain,
through velvet curtains, eyelashes caught rays,
no-one is entering, a promise bolted doors.
Sentimental solitude,
blown out cards from a paper tower,
incantatory fate is a game of freedom and damnation,
each thought may lie, each song betray.
I hear sweet-sounding music,
whispers of a book,
I am ablaze during this test of silence, I am alert, devouring talking flames
… the shapes of things are altering their meanings
perhaps the pipe is smoking me
perhaps all things have taken place before … and I am simply asking it once more
as I have failed to understand the answer.

Translated by Barbara Skubic

It has begun and this time it’s for real,
the universe had melted into one touch,
ninth symphony roars against the cliffs
and billows are an effervescent kiss.
We’re gazing at a day unborn and waiting for a promise of the sun,
a ship created from the lace of light, where we shall our fingers intertwine
and evanesce in rays.
Somewhere at the mountain top sleeps an alated boy,
through his fine eyelids we shall light up dreams
and his awakening will breathe out spring.
It has begun and this time it’s for real,
therefore we laugh, two pearls in a shell,
hidden too deep for stolen glitter.
No need for us to understand a thing,
we’re but a drop, both rain and ocean,
we’re but a morning dreaming still.
And if a lonely wanderer discerns the two of us
we are for him a strange surmise of something seen already:
Grandmother’s coffee? Father’s voice? Mother’s hand?
The universe had melted into one touch, and this time it’s for real.

Translated by Barbara Skubic

With the book in my hand I went to the outskirts of the village
above the cliffs, corroded by waves
to search for a rock, imbued with time, the dawn of annunciation,
the nests of swallows,
cobweb on a lost cross.
I waited in silence, caressing rough binding,
a wandering word pulsated like a surmise,
in the alertness of a touch I heard the prayer of the first man:
and all of a sudden, my body was stone
I did not need to read at all.
Much later,
sitting at the table, losing myself in the quiver of a candle
I noticed shining letters of the book.
What I foresaw became inevitable,
my story had already been written.

Translated by Barbara Skubic

She:
That night I was a different me,
I looked at you with the eyes of Eve.
We tasted young wine,
inhaled the scents of Indian summer,
in a hidden tavern, where olives sang
we drooled and made love on the wooden bar.
That night you hardly recognised me,
I wore wings of a red flamingo; leather trousers
and virginal silk.
I had silence for words
and understood your reticence.
That night you did not fear,
palms of my hands gave you the closeness you had lost
and my breasts quenched your thirst,
you ate my searing lipstick
and occupied my embrocated lair.
I was a rippling hive,
alluring you into the magic gardens
with changing faces of the odalisques
and that night
you believed me all.
He:
It is nice sometimes,
when on my way back from the cinema
I stop at a corner of an old house
and light up.

Translated by Barbara Skubic

You are without a name
and yet I can pronounce you at any given moment.
As I am leaving the sea,
trying to still the shaky ground
you are salt on my skin.
You are she and you are he,
consecrated and surrendered.
You are with me in my nights of fear
to wake me to my answered prayer.
Whenever we meet we are one;
when parting, we are clouds and sky.
You are the road
that leads to unsaid wishes,
the front-door key,
the book of sand and memories.
With each embrace
each thought becomes a heartbeat.
And all the world our family
whenever everyone, who shares our love,
eats at one table: you and I.

Translated by Barbara Skubic