Poem
Meta Kušar
56.
His clothing gives off a silver spark. He wasn’tdisturbed, neither by fame nor contempt. Poets will never
catch up with him, because they are egoists.
They are messiahs of the stomach, without
compassion in the heart. Experience knows experience.
On the white feathers when you forget your words,
they will lie strewn thick and firm
on the altar of morning.
© Translation: 2004, Ana Jelnikar & Stephen Watts
56.
56.
Oblačila se mu svileno svetijo. Nista ga zmotilane slava ne prezir. Pesniki ga ne bodo nikoli
dohiteli, ker so sebičneži.
V trebuhu so mesije, v srcu
brez sočutja. Izkušnja pozna izkušnjo.
Ko na belem perju pozabiš besede,
morajo zjutraj goste
in močne ležati na oltarju.
© 2004, Meta Kušar
Poems
Poems of Meta Kušar
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56.
His clothing gives off a silver spark. He wasn’tdisturbed, neither by fame nor contempt. Poets will never
catch up with him, because they are egoists.
They are messiahs of the stomach, without
compassion in the heart. Experience knows experience.
On the white feathers when you forget your words,
they will lie strewn thick and firm
on the altar of morning.
© 2004, Ana Jelnikar & Stephen Watts
56.
His clothing gives off a silver spark. He wasn’tdisturbed, neither by fame nor contempt. Poets will never
catch up with him, because they are egoists.
They are messiahs of the stomach, without
compassion in the heart. Experience knows experience.
On the white feathers when you forget your words,
they will lie strewn thick and firm
on the altar of morning.
© 2004, Ana Jelnikar & Stephen Watts
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