#salamun

I have you. No, I don't.

El destino me hace rodar. A veces como un huevo. A veces me zarandea con sus zarpas por la pendiente. Grito. Me resisto. Empeño todo mi jugo. No debería hacerlo. El destino puede apagarme, eso ya lo he sentido. Si el destino no nos animara, estaríamos muertos en el acto. He vivido días y días con el tremendo pavor de que el sol nunca más habría de salir. De que aquel fuera mi postrer día. He sentido cómo la luz se escurría de entre mis manos, y si no hubiera tenido suficientes monedas en mi bolsillo y la voz de Metka no fuera lo suficientemente dulce y amable y concreta y real, el alma se me hubiera escapado del cuerpo como alguna vez lo habrá de hacer. Con la muerte hay que ser amable. El hogar es de dónde venimos. Permanecemos vivos un instante. Mientras el esmalte se está secando

Tomaz Salamun

Tomaž Šalamun / To Metka

It was all happening inside a huge light-blue pillow, inside some kind of rattle they give to the newborn, and which was named light-blue pillow since that's the name I found for it in my dream. It was hollow and full of light, so that it was larger than the largest hall, including Albert Hall and Lincoln Center. All the way up near the ceiling there was a junk approximately two stories high and fenced by dark-gray palisades. Perhaps it'd be better to call     it a gondola? I stood on the ground floor between sculptures. I was with people. There we will dine, I said to my companions, who nodded their heads. But already we were carried down the stairs into the depths below where some other people were engaged in disco dancing on the floor of bronze. They showed great discipline and nervousness. Our gestures were identical with theirs until we were carried through a swinging door no bigger than the distance between the knee and the chin. The music ceased completely on the other side, although there was no wall or soundproofing. I heard only the humming of bees. Our position    kept changing. Again, in the distance, high under the ceiling, there was the junk. Again I pointed in its direction. There we will dine, I said to my companions, who again nodded their heads.

I have a horse. My horse has four legs. I have a record player. On my record player I sleep.  I have a brother. My brother is a sculptor. I have a coat. I have a coat to keep me warm. I have a plant. I have a plant to have green in my room. I have Marushka. I have Marushka because I love her. I have matches. With matches I light cigarettes. I have a body. With a body I do the most beautiful things that I do. I have destruction. Destruction causes me many troubles. I have night. Night comes to me through the window of my room. I have fun racing cars. I race cars because car racing is fun. I have money. With money I buy bread. I have six really good poems. I hope I will write more of them. I am twenty-seven years old. All these years have passed like lightning. I am relatively courageous. With this courage I fight human stupidity. I have a birthday March seventh. I hope March seventh will be a nice day. I have a friend whose daughter's name is Breditza. In the evening when they put her to bed she says Salamun and falls asleep.