1325: To Have a Friend | Tomaz Salamun
"To Have a Friend"
Tomaz Salamun
Translated by Anselm Hollo
I see the devil’s head, people, I see his whole body
I never thought he could come so close
he longs for innocence, as we do, I have the sensation
he was crammed into the wall for a long time
I have the feeling that his hands ache, that he is tender
and absorbed in thoughts, he licks everything before killing it,
he bursts into tears, scraping meat, he is blessed
he has no friends, he is walking alone in the world
I have the feeling he is saying something to me
that he is watching me with regret
he knows I could never sleep with him
we are both humiliated
he reminds me of the English teacher
when he was pensioned off, and young secret-police recruits,
it seems his beatitude is failing
the souls squeal when he tortures them
he doesn’t drink them, as I imagined
it seems he derives no benefit from them
I think he would like to have a friend
to share goods and pleasure
he steps in the river and wets his head in it
he doesn’t know how to speak with it
he splashes on the surface
I will leave him as he is, I will not talk to him
I prefer to post poems in the original language as well as English but am struggling to find a copy of "To Have a Friend" in the original Slovenian. If you know Slovenian and can find it, that would be awesome.
On this day in...
2010: "Condolence" by Dorothy Parker
2009: Weekend, no poem
2008: Weekend, no poem
2007: "Parable of the Madman" by Friedrich Nietzsche
A week ago, I was going upstairs and posted on the stairwell wall, was a plain white piece of paper with a printed line from Carolyn Forché's poem: He spilled many human ears on the table. They were like/dried peach halves./There is no other way to say this. In the library today, I saw someone had posted lines from this poem on a plain white piece of paper on a bulletin board: I have the feeling he is saying something to me/that he is watching me with regret/he knows I could never sleep with him/we are both humiliated. Another paper with more lines was in the restroom: The jungle/crouched, humped in silence./Then spoke the thunder. It's apparently from "The Wasteland" by T.S. Eliot. This is wonderful.
or squeeze the throat to whisper while it can:/‘There is nothing in life as beautiful as life…’?
Tomaz Salamun
Translated by Anselm Hollo
I see the devil’s head, people, I see his whole body
I never thought he could come so close
he longs for innocence, as we do, I have the sensation
he was crammed into the wall for a long time
I have the feeling that his hands ache, that he is tender
and absorbed in thoughts, he licks everything before killing it,
he bursts into tears, scraping meat, he is blessed
he has no friends, he is walking alone in the world
I have the feeling he is saying something to me
that he is watching me with regret
he knows I could never sleep with him
we are both humiliated
he reminds me of the English teacher
when he was pensioned off, and young secret-police recruits,
it seems his beatitude is failing
the souls squeal when he tortures them
he doesn’t drink them, as I imagined
it seems he derives no benefit from them
I think he would like to have a friend
to share goods and pleasure
he steps in the river and wets his head in it
he doesn’t know how to speak with it
he splashes on the surface
I will leave him as he is, I will not talk to him
I prefer to post poems in the original language as well as English but am struggling to find a copy of "To Have a Friend" in the original Slovenian. If you know Slovenian and can find it, that would be awesome.
On this day in...
2010: "Condolence" by Dorothy Parker
2009: Weekend, no poem
2008: Weekend, no poem
2007: "Parable of the Madman" by Friedrich Nietzsche
A week ago, I was going upstairs and posted on the stairwell wall, was a plain white piece of paper with a printed line from Carolyn Forché's poem: He spilled many human ears on the table. They were like/dried peach halves./There is no other way to say this. In the library today, I saw someone had posted lines from this poem on a plain white piece of paper on a bulletin board: I have the feeling he is saying something to me/that he is watching me with regret/he knows I could never sleep with him/we are both humiliated. Another paper with more lines was in the restroom: The jungle/crouched, humped in silence./Then spoke the thunder. It's apparently from "The Wasteland" by T.S. Eliot. This is wonderful.
or squeeze the throat to whisper while it can:/‘There is nothing in life as beautiful as life…’?