when I was listened to by uroš zupan

by Kristina Kočan


when I was listened to by uroš zupan

the ride to the reading in Ljubljana was
without significant delays I arrived
too early on the way 
I saw a few raptors
sitting on the poles along the highway
some nice specimens
of game the grass looked juicy
at the poetry evening
from afar there was a smell
of minestrone for whom for hungry
poets and two sated musicians
some people were standing outside then
around the corner came uroš
zupan the same beard tousled hair
as if living a life of its own
he sat towards the back but still close enough
that it seemed he’d listen eagerly
before I began he cleared his throat
every now and then I lifted my eyes
to meet his he wasn’t even breathing
like a buck listening not knowing whether
for the hunter or the bang
I was confused that he
was in a blue tracksuit
and so curiously short
now if only whitman
listened to me for himself he’d need
a whole row like a stag instead
of clapping he’d bellow his beard shaking
and his hair wild

Translated by Jernej Županič

ko me je poslušal uroš zupan

vožnja na branje v LJ je potekala
brez večjih zastojev prispela sem
prehitro med potjo 
sem videla nekaj ujed 
sedeti na rantah ob avtocesti 
še nekaj lepih primerkov 
divjadi trava je izgledala sočna
na pesniškem večeru 
je že od daleč dišala 
neka mineštra za koga za lačne 
pesnike in dva sita glasbenika
nekaj ljudi je stalo zunaj takrat 
je stopil izza vogala še uroš 
zupan ista brada skuštrani lasje 
kot da bi živeli neko svoje življenje
sedel je bolj zadaj a vendarle dovolj blizu
da se je videlo da bo poslušal z vnemo
preden sem začela se je odkašljal
vsake toliko sem dvignila pogled
da sva se srečala niti dihal ni
kot srnjak ki posluša ali bo zaslišal 
lovca ali že kar pok
motilo me je da je bil 
v modri trenirki 
in tako nenavadno majhen
zdaj samo da me posluša
še whitman ki bo rabil zase
celo vrsto kot jelen bo namesto 
ploskanja rukal tresla se mu bo brada 
in divji bodo lasje