Lives Journal 7

Ivo Antich

 

TAMGA

 

(Sarmatian solar ideogram)

 

TAMGA OF THE NIGHT

 

 

Countless words

for one word,

the right one

and the wrong one.

Fire outside the fire,

the dance of the sun,

the world and the counterworld of the worlds.

Everything is the absence

of everything: the stars

stand above the seaside.

 

 

 

 

THE MORNING OF TAMGA

 

White wings

by the dawning of the doors.

No clouds,

just the speedy blueness

pierces

the night: the kamikaze,

the swoosh of the scythe

the steely seagull,

the royal shot

on the meadow, nowhere.

 

 

 

 

THE NOON OF TAMGA

 

On the deck made of clouds

the split of the rudder,

concreted

in the fire of the blades.

In the stilness of the syntagm

there's a battle between the scirocco

and tramontana.

In the middle of love

stirs death.

 

 

 

 

THE EVENING OF TAMGA

 

Under the quiet

evening water

there's an ancient

sun that glows: the sign that's asleep.

The night looks at herself

in the mirror,

soon she's going to be

at home there again.

Across the sea

the cross-trail of blood.

 

 

 

 

THE NIGHT OF TAMGA

 

The night of tamga

is the day: the dialogue.

The sun, the phoenix,

lives on the other side

of the hole of the night.

A peaceful smile

opens there,

another field,

another time, decay.

And the reprise of everything above.

 

 

Translated by M. Krajnc

 

  

 

Slovenian (gajica)

Slovenian (bohorichica)