Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Barbara Korun

Lioness

The lioness is my love for you, the tawny lioness
with her golden skin, her golden eyes.
She walks by my side always;
when I sit down to rest she lies beside me,
her face by my leg like a loyal dog.
I play with her, I lie down between her great paws
and let her toss me like her cub.
I feel the weight of her great paws,
the sharp precision of her claws.
I taste dead meat on her breath.

Now she is dying, the tawny lioness.
More and more she falters behind me,
hurrying to catch up with me when I rise.
I see the clotted blood that beads her snout.
She lies there on her side, she raises
her yellow, waning gaze to me.
I ask her: Where has your strength gone?
Where has your voice disappeared to?
I lay myself down between her weary paws,
I close my eyes with hers.

Levinja

Levinja

levinja je moja ljubezen do tebe. zlata levinja, levinja
z zlato kožo in zlatimi očmi. zmeraj hodi ob meni in ko se
usedem, da si odpočijem, leže ob moje noge kot zvest,
vdan pes. igram se z njo. ležem med njene šape in pustim,
da me prekopicuje kot svojega mladiča. natančno čutim
težo njenih šap in ostrino krempljev. in vonjam sapo mesojede
živali.

zdaj umira, zlata levinja. zmeraj bolj se opoteka za
mano  in včasih me dohiti šele, ko že vstajam iz
počivališča. okrog gobca strnjeni sledovi njene krvi, leži
na boku in me gleda z rumenim, pojemajočim pogledom.
levinja, kje je tvoja moč? kam se je izgubil tvoj glas? lahko samo
ležem med tvoje utrujene šape in zaprem oči s teboj.
Close

Lioness

The lioness is my love for you, the tawny lioness
with her golden skin, her golden eyes.
She walks by my side always;
when I sit down to rest she lies beside me,
her face by my leg like a loyal dog.
I play with her, I lie down between her great paws
and let her toss me like her cub.
I feel the weight of her great paws,
the sharp precision of her claws.
I taste dead meat on her breath.

Now she is dying, the tawny lioness.
More and more she falters behind me,
hurrying to catch up with me when I rise.
I see the clotted blood that beads her snout.
She lies there on her side, she raises
her yellow, waning gaze to me.
I ask her: Where has your strength gone?
Where has your voice disappeared to?
I lay myself down between her weary paws,
I close my eyes with hers.

Lioness

The lioness is my love for you, the tawny lioness
with her golden skin, her golden eyes.
She walks by my side always;
when I sit down to rest she lies beside me,
her face by my leg like a loyal dog.
I play with her, I lie down between her great paws
and let her toss me like her cub.
I feel the weight of her great paws,
the sharp precision of her claws.
I taste dead meat on her breath.

Now she is dying, the tawny lioness.
More and more she falters behind me,
hurrying to catch up with me when I rise.
I see the clotted blood that beads her snout.
She lies there on her side, she raises
her yellow, waning gaze to me.
I ask her: Where has your strength gone?
Where has your voice disappeared to?
I lay myself down between her weary paws,
I close my eyes with hers.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
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