Poems by Peter Semolič
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1.
Father Last night I dreamt about you, father. You came into my dream as a deer and stood astride a grassy mound. I called you by your name, father. I called you by the word: father I said: Look, my eyes are two wet flowers by the mountain stream. Come, let your warm deer tongue dry the dew that fell upon my eyes. And you stood as in another world, as in another dream, astride a mound, overgrown with grass. You shook your mighty antlers and vanished in the white cloud of no one’s dreams. Translated by Ana Jelnikar & Kelly Lenox Allan 2. Writing It Down When you wait for your bus, all the others come first, some more than once, before yours, always the last. It isn’t true that it’s always like this, but it’s often enough that your skepticism fades and before you know it, you’re studying the ecliptics of the sun, the moon and the planets; you cast the cards; you’re trying to trace, in the dim light of a streetlamp, the uncountable hair-thin lines branching out from your lifeline. I tremble—it isn’t true that in the years I wasn’t writing poems I wasn’t making poetry. I composed them in my head, some in prose, some in meter, verses, each one shorter, each more stripped, opaque, ever darker, ever closer to the spells of black magic. I forgot most of them right away, or within a few days, but some got nailed into my brain, pressing harder and harder on my thoughts, directing my actions. Nothing special-- just the way I lace my shoes, yawn, how I should scratch my forehead, turn my palm when shaking hands, how I should cross my legs. Nothing special. But in each gesture, I saw again a stranger, a savage, a clumsy shaman who had cast a spell upon himself. One day I muster the last ounce of my strength. I write with the tip of my shoe, in the snow, white as paper, my name. Drive out the demon of superstition. Translated by Ana Jelnikar & Kelly Lenox Allan 1. Oče To noč sem sanjal o tebi, oče. V podobi jelena si prišel v moje sanje in se ustopil vrh travnatega griča. Poklical sem te po imenu, oče. Poklical sem te z besedo: oče. Rekel sem: Glej, moji očesi sta dva mokra cvetova ob gorskem potoku. Pridi in tvoj topli jelenji jezik naj osuši roso, ki je padla na moje oči. Ti pa si stal kot v nekem drugem svetu, kot v nekih drugih sanjah, vrh griča, poraslega s travo. Otresel si s svojim mogočnim rogovjem in izginil v belem oblaku nikogaršnjih sanj. 2. Moč zapisa Ko čakaš avtobus, najprej pripeljejo vse druge številke, nekatere celo po večkrat, in šele potem, čisto nazadnje, tvoja. Ni res, da je zmerom tako. A dovolj pogosto je, da skepticizem popusti in že študiraš ekliptike sonca, lune in planetov, vržeš karte, poskušaš razbrati v medli svetlobi ulične svetilke vse podrobnosti, vse kot las tenke črte, ki se ti vejajo iz črte življenja. Vzdrhtim. Ni res, da v letih, ko nisem pisal pesmi, nisem pesnil. V mislih sem sestavljal verze, zdaj v prozi, zdaj spet v metru, verze, vse krajše, vse bolj ogoljene, neprozorne, vse temnejše, vse bolj spominjajoče na uroke črne magije. Večino sem jih sproti ali vsaj v nekaj dneh pozabil, nekateri pa so se mi zadrli v možgane, mi vse bolj pritiskali na misli in mi narekovali vedenje. Nič posebnega, le to, kako naj si zavežem čevlje, zazeham, kako naj se popraskam po čelu, kako naj držim dlan, ko se rokujem, kako naj prekrižam noge. Nič posebnega. A vsakič znova sem v svojih kretnjah ugledal tujca, divjaka, nerodnega šamana, ki je uročil samega sebe. Nekega dne sem zbral še zadnje moči. Zapisal sem s konico čevlja v sneg, bel kot papir, svoje ime in pregnal demona praznoverja. |
Peter Semolič, born in Ljubljana in 1967, studied General Linguistics and Cultural Studies at the University of Ljubljana. He is the author of fifteen books of poetry. He has received many prizes for his work, including the two most eminent awards in Slovenia, Jenko's Poetry Prize and the Prešeren Prize (the National Award for Literature and Arts – he received it for collection of poems Circles upon the Water). In 1998 he also won the Vilenica Crystal Award. Peter Semolič also writes plays, children’s literature, essays and translates from English, French, Serbian and Croatian. He is cofounder and editor of first Slovenian online poetry magazine Poiesis.
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