Oak god

1.

What are you oak god,

when your bark is peeling?

What are you oak god,

when acid floods your feet?

In every hollow cradle

you lay a pinch of bark,                         

in every shell of hollow

you breathe scent of vinegar.

What are you oak god,

with eyes,

carved on the inside?                            

 

2.

What are you oak god,

with faded wreath of nettle crowned?

What are you oak god –

a crack in tissue;

chromosomic vault?

On every dawn you bless me

with brown dust

and some change for death,

you gaze onward, stamping

with full bladder on your shelf.                         

What are you oak god –

puzzle of six organs.

 

3.

What are you oak god;

alone in the beginning –

your world corroded from the screams.

This steep steppe was your gift to me,

with impregnated stakes confined,

my roof with horsehair covered,

and bed with sheet of scabs.

You have not given me wolf's throat,

only a throat for taste of wine.

You have not given me clear eyes,

other colours I will not see clearly,

No ear for music I was given.

No walking staff no path for me.

An oak god you will be for ages,

Only few minutes

I, your skin.

 

4.

What are you oak god;

spreading your genitals imperiously

over my half-shanks.

What are you oak god;

my oxen with new testicles bestowing,

confines of plains closing on me.

You are the tannin for my leather,

a sado-sword tearing the spine.

A still life of kidneys and livers

you are in spring water troughs.

I like that you don`t cry

as dark matter is leaving you.

 

5.

What are you oak god;

Leaf fat grease with marigold -

only a leak of my intestines.

What are you oak god;

sound which sews black coat,

coat which sips the lowest rays.

What are you scabby god;

ripped open pouch of groin,

through which a dragon peeks.

I like that you only add colour

and a taste of bitter.

© translated by Matic Večko

Hrastov bog

1.

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog,

da se s tebe lušči lubje?

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog,

da ti ocet teče v noge?

V vsako votlo zibel

položiš ščepec skorje,

v vsako lupino votlega

vpihneš vonj po kisu.

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog,

z očmi,

izdolbenimi navznoter?

Skorjevec

 

2.

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog,

v ovel koprivov venec odet?

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog -

razpoka v tkivu;

kromosomski obok?

Vsako jutro mi podariš

rjav prah

in 25 tolarjev za smrt,

gledaš naprej, cepetaš

s polnim mehurjem po svoji polici.

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog –

sestavljanka šestih organov.

 

3.

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog;

v začetku sam -

tvoj svet razjeda krikov.

Poklonil si mi to strmo stepo,

omejeno z impregniranimi koli,

streho si mi pokril z žimo,

posteljo z rjuho krast.

Nisi mi podaril volčjega žrela,

le žrelo na vinski okus.

Nisi mi dal očes določene barve,

gledal ne bom razločnih barv.

Nisem dobil občutljivega bobniča.

Nisi mi poklonil stojice ne hojice.

Ti boš še dolgo hrastov bog,

jaz bom tvoja koža

le nekaj minut.

Skorjevec

 

4.

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog;

prepotentno steguješ genitalije

čez moj polkrak.

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog;

mojim volom podarjaš nova jajca,

krajšajo mi ozare planjav.

Si čreslovina, ki stroji mi leder,

sado meč, ki trga hrbtenjačo.

Tihožitje si ledvic in jeter

v studenčnice koritih.

Všeč mi je, ker ne jokaš,

ko te zapušča temna snov.

 

5.

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog;

Salo mast z ognjičevim cvetjem –

le izcedek mojega črevesja.

Kakšen si ti hrastov bog;

tisti zvok, ki šiva črn plašč,

plašč, ki srka nizke žarke.

Kakšen si ti krastav bog;

razparan mošnjiček mednožja,

skozi katerega kuka zmaj v svet.

Všeč si mi, ker dodajaš le barvo

in grenkega okus.

© Gašper Bivšek, Skorjevec (Študentska založba, 2007)