nederlandse taal
english language

 
Poetry International Web
en/nl
dutch news
previous | next
 
 
 

V črni poletni noči
v črni poletni noči
sem šla na vrt
utrgat rožo zate

borila se je dolgo
z vsemi svojimi trni
šuštela z listi

zdaj čakam
ob oglu hiše
da prideš

čutim
kako drhti
v rokah
kako v temi
izteka njena
črna vroča kri
On a Black Summer’s Night
I stepped out into the garden
to pluck a flower for you –

it shook its leaves in my face,
fought me stubbornly,
raked me with its thorns.

Now I wait for you
at the corner of the house,
I stand there

and feel
the rose trembling
in my hand,
its hot, black blood
leaking out
into the dark.