Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Tomaž Šalamun

RED FLOWERS

Red flowers grow in the sky, there’s a shadow in the garden.
The light penetrates, there's no light to be seen.
How then can the shadow be seen, there’s a shadow in the garden,
all around big white stones lie scattered, we can sit on them.
 
The hills around are just like the hills on earth, only lower.
They look perfectly tender. I think we, too, are perfectly light,
we hardly touch the ground. When I take a step,
it seems the red flowers draw back a little.
 
The air is fragrant, both cool and burning. New beings
draw closer, some invisible hand smoothly placing them in the grass.
They are beautiful and quiet. We are all here together.
Some of them, swimming toward this place,
 
are turned around and cut off.
They disappear, we can’t see them anymore, they groan.
Now my body feels as if it’s in a fiery tunnel,
it rises like dough, drizzles apart in the stars.
 
There is no sex in heaven, I feel no hands,
but all things and beings are perfectly joined.
They rush apart only to become even more united.
Colors evaporate, all sounds are like a sponge in the eyes.
 
Now I know, sometimes I was a rooster, sometimes a roe.
I know I had bullets in my body, they crumble away now.
How beautifully I breathe.
I feel I’m being ironed, it doesn’t burn at all.

RODE BLOEMEN

in de hemel groeien rode bloemen, over de tuin valt een schaduw
het licht komt van overal, de zon is niet te zien
ik weet niet hoe er een schaduw over de tuin kan vallen, op het gras ligt dauw
om me heen liggen witte stenen waarop je kunt zitten
 
de heuvels om me heen zijn als die op aarde
alleen lager en zo te zien van heel lichte grond
ik denk dat wij ook heel licht zijn en nauwelijks de grond raken
als ik loop is het alsof de rode bloemen iets voor me terugwijken
 
de lucht lijkt te ademen, lijkt verschrikkelijk koud en heet
ik zie dat er nieuwe wezens komen
alsof een onzichtbare hand ze in het gras plaatst
ze zijn allemaal mooi en vredig en we zijn allemaal samen
 
sommige zweven door de lucht hierheen, keren om en worden weggerukt
ze verdwijnen en we zien ze niet meer en ze schreeuwen
het lijkt alsof mijn lichaam in een vlammende tunnel is
alsof het rijst als deeg en dan in dwarrelende sterren uiteenvalt
 
hier in de hemel is geen seks en ik voel geen handen
maar alle dingen en wezens zijn volledig samen
ze stuiven uiteen om zich dan nog meer te verenigen
de kleuren verdampen en alle stemmen liggen als een zacht kapje op de ogen
 
nu weet ik dat ik soms een haan was en soms een rendier
dat er in mijn lichaam kogels zaten die nu verpulveren
en wat adem ik heerlijk
het voelt alsof een strijkijzer me strijkt en me niet schroeit 

Rdeče rože

rdeče rože rasejo v nebesih, senca je na vrtu
luč prodira od povsod, sonca se ne vidi
ne vem kako da je potem senca na vrtu, rosa je v travi
okrog so posuti veliki beli kamni da se na njih lahko sedi
 
hribi okrog so taki kot na zemlji
samo da so nižji in da so videti čisto prhki
mislim da smo tudi mi čisto lahki in da se komaj dotikamo tal
če hodim se mi zdi da se rdeče rože malo umaknejo pred mano
 
zdi se mi da zrak diši, da je strašno hladen in žgoč
vidim da prihajajo nova bitja
kot da jih nevidna roka polaga v travo
vsa so lepa in mirna in vsi smo skupaj
 
nekatere ki plavajo sem v zraku zavrti in jih odtrga
zginejo in jih ne vidimo več in ječijo
zdi se mi da je moje telo v žarečem tunelu
da vzhaja kot testo in potem prši narazen v zvezde
 
tukaj v nebesih ni seksa ne čutim rok
ampak so vse stvari in bitja popolnoma skupaj
in drvijo narazen da se še bolj združijo
barve hlapijo in vsi glasovi so kot mehka kepa na očeh
 
zdaj vem da sem bil včasih petelin in včasih srna
da sem imel krogle v telesu ki jih zdaj drobi
kako lepo diham
imam občutek da me lika likalnik in da me nič ne peče
Close

RED FLOWERS

Red flowers grow in the sky, there’s a shadow in the garden.
The light penetrates, there's no light to be seen.
How then can the shadow be seen, there’s a shadow in the garden,
all around big white stones lie scattered, we can sit on them.
 
The hills around are just like the hills on earth, only lower.
They look perfectly tender. I think we, too, are perfectly light,
we hardly touch the ground. When I take a step,
it seems the red flowers draw back a little.
 
The air is fragrant, both cool and burning. New beings
draw closer, some invisible hand smoothly placing them in the grass.
They are beautiful and quiet. We are all here together.
Some of them, swimming toward this place,
 
are turned around and cut off.
They disappear, we can’t see them anymore, they groan.
Now my body feels as if it’s in a fiery tunnel,
it rises like dough, drizzles apart in the stars.
 
There is no sex in heaven, I feel no hands,
but all things and beings are perfectly joined.
They rush apart only to become even more united.
Colors evaporate, all sounds are like a sponge in the eyes.
 
Now I know, sometimes I was a rooster, sometimes a roe.
I know I had bullets in my body, they crumble away now.
How beautifully I breathe.
I feel I’m being ironed, it doesn’t burn at all.

RED FLOWERS

Red flowers grow in the sky, there’s a shadow in the garden.
The light penetrates, there's no light to be seen.
How then can the shadow be seen, there’s a shadow in the garden,
all around big white stones lie scattered, we can sit on them.
 
The hills around are just like the hills on earth, only lower.
They look perfectly tender. I think we, too, are perfectly light,
we hardly touch the ground. When I take a step,
it seems the red flowers draw back a little.
 
The air is fragrant, both cool and burning. New beings
draw closer, some invisible hand smoothly placing them in the grass.
They are beautiful and quiet. We are all here together.
Some of them, swimming toward this place,
 
are turned around and cut off.
They disappear, we can’t see them anymore, they groan.
Now my body feels as if it’s in a fiery tunnel,
it rises like dough, drizzles apart in the stars.
 
There is no sex in heaven, I feel no hands,
but all things and beings are perfectly joined.
They rush apart only to become even more united.
Colors evaporate, all sounds are like a sponge in the eyes.
 
Now I know, sometimes I was a rooster, sometimes a roe.
I know I had bullets in my body, they crumble away now.
How beautifully I breathe.
I feel I’m being ironed, it doesn’t burn at all.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère