Lives Journal 6

Mojca Selishkar






You are a tiger, a ferocious one. 

You are beautiful

I move carefully

On tiptoe.

I touch you.

You don't move.

You look beautiful.

Very dangerous

I don't want to play games.

Your dance, tiger.

It is really I:

I am not a tigress. 

The caress burns.

I move on tiptoe.

It will be between us.






I cry for the night

that hides us

in fluffy snow f

or the transformation of souls

since we are a single

white angel.


I cry in the glittering now

that reaches for my face,

from now on what he gave me

will stay with me.


I cry for the night

in the ear,

in hair I implore you

to take a white kiss

for later.






No movement, no sound,

nothing that would attract,

nothing for roots or wings.


I look at you calmly. 

When I sit down

to admit it to myself


As we have installed it:

all colors will be washed out,

save one's own, the only one.




A Bold Thought


A bold winding thought

grows out of my body

in your proximity

into your skin

like the answer in a letter.



Translated from Slovenian by Herbert Kuhner




Slovenian (gajica)

Slovenian (bohorichica)