Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Dane Zajc

Vipers

On some deserted shore,
where sand and wind converse
about eternity,

vipers slither out
from under rocks,
cold and odious
they lay on my heart.

I said to the vipers,
hungry for warmth:
Drink blood.
I\'ve no use for blood.
I\'ve no use for the rivers of passion.
They have nowhere to flow,
they are choking in the dams of reason.

Devour my heart also.
I\'ve no use for it.
No use,
as it dissolves in ice,
like weeping stars dissolve
in the river.

Devour my heart.
Then furl into an icy ball
in the cavern of my chest,
so I won\'t need to watch
the stars weeping
in waterpools,
watch them longing for radiant footsteps
left behind
on the azure velvet of the sky.

Devour my heart,
swill hot blood,
cold, odious vipers.

All is permitted
on the desolate shore,
where sand and wind converse
about eternity,
one only needs to rip his heart out
and hurl it into the famished snakes\' mouths.

Modrasi

Modrasi

Na neki zapušèeni obali,
kjer se pogovarjata pesek in veter
o neskonènosti,

so prilezli modrasi
spod kamenja,
mrzli in ostudni,
in legli na srce.

Rekel sem modrasom,
laènim toplote:
Pijte kri.
Saj kaj bi s krvjo.
Kaj bi z rekami strasti.
Ko se ne morejo nikamor zliti,
Se davijo v jezovih razuma.

In zrite srce.
Odveè mi je moje srce.
Odveè mi je,
ko se raztaplja v ledu,
kot se raztapljajo jokajoèe zvezde
v reki.

Pozrite srce.
In zvijte se v mrzel klobèiè
v votlini mojih prsi,
da ne bom veè gledal,
kako joèejo zvezde
iz tolmunov
in kako hrepenijo po svetlih stopinjah
ki so jih pustile
v modrem zametu neba.

Pozrite srce
in lokajte vroèo kri,
mrzli, ostudni modrasi

Vse je dovoljeno
na pusti obali,
kjer se pogovarjata pesek in vel
o neskonènosti,
le srce si je treba iztrgati
in ga zagnati v laène kaèje gobce.
Close

Vipers

On some deserted shore,
where sand and wind converse
about eternity,

vipers slither out
from under rocks,
cold and odious
they lay on my heart.

I said to the vipers,
hungry for warmth:
Drink blood.
I\'ve no use for blood.
I\'ve no use for the rivers of passion.
They have nowhere to flow,
they are choking in the dams of reason.

Devour my heart also.
I\'ve no use for it.
No use,
as it dissolves in ice,
like weeping stars dissolve
in the river.

Devour my heart.
Then furl into an icy ball
in the cavern of my chest,
so I won\'t need to watch
the stars weeping
in waterpools,
watch them longing for radiant footsteps
left behind
on the azure velvet of the sky.

Devour my heart,
swill hot blood,
cold, odious vipers.

All is permitted
on the desolate shore,
where sand and wind converse
about eternity,
one only needs to rip his heart out
and hurl it into the famished snakes\' mouths.

Vipers

On some deserted shore,
where sand and wind converse
about eternity,

vipers slither out
from under rocks,
cold and odious
they lay on my heart.

I said to the vipers,
hungry for warmth:
Drink blood.
I\'ve no use for blood.
I\'ve no use for the rivers of passion.
They have nowhere to flow,
they are choking in the dams of reason.

Devour my heart also.
I\'ve no use for it.
No use,
as it dissolves in ice,
like weeping stars dissolve
in the river.

Devour my heart.
Then furl into an icy ball
in the cavern of my chest,
so I won\'t need to watch
the stars weeping
in waterpools,
watch them longing for radiant footsteps
left behind
on the azure velvet of the sky.

Devour my heart,
swill hot blood,
cold, odious vipers.

All is permitted
on the desolate shore,
where sand and wind converse
about eternity,
one only needs to rip his heart out
and hurl it into the famished snakes\' mouths.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère