you’re leaving. it seems you’ll be doing it

all your life. although we’ll be gone from velvet covers,

back rows of movie theatres, staircases in the night,

you will, so it seems, always be clinging to my bitter

 

bitter tongue, my grieving figure. repeating sentences.

recoiling, with equal fervour, because of an ancient ancient

loss. right before death – yours or mine – you’ll dream of a new beginning

which is the reason I cower every day. I conform in vain.

© translated by Jernej Županič

odhajaš. videti je, da boš to počela

celo življenje. čeprav ne bova več na žametnih pregrinjalih,

v zadnjih vrstah kinodvoran, na nočnih stopniščih,

se boš, videti je tako, celo življenje oklepala mojega grenkega

 

grenkega jezika, mojega života v žalovanju. ponavljala stavke.

se odvračala z isto vnemo zaradi davne, davne

izgube. tik pred smrtjo – tvojo ali mojo – boš sanjala o novem začetku,

zaradi katerega se pritajim vsak dan. prikrojim se zaman.

© Kristina Hočevar, Repki (ŠKUC Lambda, 2008)