EULOGY TO THE MOON
Eulogy to the Moon
Red moons light our way in the evening.
They are often made of pure silver
but are always uncanny and cold
in their inexplicable clarity.
this bizarre masterpiece devoid of passion
seems to us,
this cold construction
composed of ore.
but the moon survives.
When we are long gone
the earth will break into thirty-five moons,
and there'll be no more fire.
Thoughts at Night
The wall-clock has stopped in the dusk.
The pendulum has become detached.
The moon is above the dark continent.
Blood-covered cranes are flying.
Glass looks back at us with cracked eyes.
The forests are covered with metal cobwebs.
The world is void and vague.
The nights are armed with contaminated moons.
The days are as mad as rabid dogs.
Everyone sleeps under black sheets.
The wheels of life race until they break.
Time is dead but doesn't stop.
The sword is the handwriting on all borders.
This is a city out of a book,
a city with no fountains or flowers,
a city in which the clocks have stopped,
a city over which blood-covered cranes fly.
Translated from Slovenian by Herbert Kuhner