Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Brane Mozetič

When I arrive

When I arrive, you throw your arms wide open,
you want so much tenderness, caressing
and kissing, you keep grasping for my
hand, you long for my mouth, wanting more

I take off your clothes and fondle you
in my lap as I would a child who will grow up and leave
at times I see the marks of other
teeth, scratches, sometimes my own saliva

released into you, like sap,
we walk across the fields and you hold onto me
you stop, snuggle up to me, you whisper

I love you, you shiver, it is cold,
you bow down, feel the earth with your hand, look
at me, it calls, you softly say.

When I arrive

ko prispem, močno razširiš roke
tako željan si stiska, božanj
in poljubov, kar naprej loviš za roko
me, hlepiš po ustih, hočeš še in še

slečem te in v naročju te ljubkujem
kot otroka, ki bo zrasel in odšel
včasih vidim znake drugih stiskov
zob, potegov, včasih slino

ki jo spuščam vate, kakor sok
hodiva po polju in se me držiš
postaneš, se priviješ, šepneš

rad te imam, drhtiš, tako mrzlo je
skloniš se, potipaš zemljo, me
pogledaš, kliče, rečeš tiho.
Close

When I arrive

When I arrive, you throw your arms wide open,
you want so much tenderness, caressing
and kissing, you keep grasping for my
hand, you long for my mouth, wanting more

I take off your clothes and fondle you
in my lap as I would a child who will grow up and leave
at times I see the marks of other
teeth, scratches, sometimes my own saliva

released into you, like sap,
we walk across the fields and you hold onto me
you stop, snuggle up to me, you whisper

I love you, you shiver, it is cold,
you bow down, feel the earth with your hand, look
at me, it calls, you softly say.

When I arrive

When I arrive, you throw your arms wide open,
you want so much tenderness, caressing
and kissing, you keep grasping for my
hand, you long for my mouth, wanting more

I take off your clothes and fondle you
in my lap as I would a child who will grow up and leave
at times I see the marks of other
teeth, scratches, sometimes my own saliva

released into you, like sap,
we walk across the fields and you hold onto me
you stop, snuggle up to me, you whisper

I love you, you shiver, it is cold,
you bow down, feel the earth with your hand, look
at me, it calls, you softly say.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère