Form is what remains;
the glimmer of divine shapes,
light, colors, odors and tastes,
dreams after Coleridge's pipe –
not merely illusion; human moments,
an endless scenery – an epic –
arranges everything that was
and will be without the confusion of our emotions.
Content is shifting –
flowing from a life to a life
first quiet, then screaming,
in the end, wrapped in melancholy.
Time doesn't worship language, it just demands an image –
Uroš Zupan (born 1963) Slovenia
Translated by Barbara Jurša
Source: Uroš Zupan Selected Poems, Translated by Barbara Jurša, Lud Literatura, 2014
the glimmer of divine shapes,
light, colors, odors and tastes,
dreams after Coleridge's pipe –
not merely illusion; human moments,
an endless scenery – an epic –
arranges everything that was
and will be without the confusion of our emotions.
Content is shifting –
flowing from a life to a life
first quiet, then screaming,
in the end, wrapped in melancholy.
Time doesn't worship language, it just demands an image –
Uroš Zupan (born 1963) Slovenia
Translated by Barbara Jurša
Source: Uroš Zupan Selected Poems, Translated by Barbara Jurša, Lud Literatura, 2014
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