How lucky we are to have so many wonderful poems translated into English. Here’s a taste:
Little robin
bones pinned to the cosmos.
Who whistles? Who calls?
Tomaž Šalamun (tr. from Slovenian by Tomaž Šalamun and Michael Waltuch)
I wonder if it was robin in Slovenian, or another common, backyard bird.
A February Poem, translated from the Slovenian. Of course, here in Northern California, February is a month of emerald green and blossoms. But for the rest of you, a more apt description.
There is a time when
pure emotions
invade us like
bags from the black pressed
leather
of a shark—
February. The month
of raked leaves under
the thick blanket of snow, Continue reading “Tomaž Šalamun”