Lives Journal 8

Lev Detela

 

RED ANGEL

 

RED ANGEL FROM KÖNIGSBERG

 

Red angel

             blesses

             the neglected travelers

   from the book of discarded kings

in Königsberg and Kaliningrad

 

             Then waves

                           with a flag at half-mast

                           from a secret corner

                                       in your backstage

                                       and all the letters in an old russianprussian book

                                       in a moment become green

 

 

MOUNTAINEERS

 

Yesterday I met

          lost father.

          He said

                        that he had just

                                     risen from the grave.

          He was sitting in a deserted park

                                      on the bench

                                      and fed the pigeons.

 

He strictly looked at me:

               Do you already know a multiplication table by heart?

In back a gypsy music was playing

               the forgotten melodies.

 

Diddle-doodle, you're right, said the father.

However, multiplication table. And Mitzy Smith drank up but paid not.

This has not! Of cours!

 

               Three women were leaping macabrely

               between tulips and roses

               prophesying from botany.

               The landscape wrapped itself in colorful skirts.

 

I am on the life-threatening point, my son,

                                      he said, and grimaced.

Why did you leave without a word

and why didn't you show me the secret tower

with Hardheaded and little Maggy?

In this case, I would have easily died,

and mountain which I have to climb up

would be achievable.

 

 

 

ME

 

Will I in this impudent land

of Seven Lipizzaner horses and One-hundred-twenty vipers

find my last peace?

Will open itself the sky

of a gentle guardian angel?

 

Namely, fathers did not yet renounce

the tempting visions.

Therefore, the sea is an unexpected slap in the face,

it sinks in the sky, happy forever.

 

In doing so, it seems that my finger

is a blind residue of the ancient evolution.

At the sun glows a threatening handwriting

from the ruffled scales of an antediluvian lizard.

 

 

Translated from Slovenian by Ivo Antich

 

 

 

Slovenian (bohorichica)

Slovenian (gajica)