It was the gardening of a superficial layer. A strict forbiddance of every chthonic alchemy. The growing of a separation as the only allowed displacing of lust. I would mount the sharp vibration of a smile into the scene of a postponed encounter. And in that way I would only thicken that sharpness. Into the sharpest encounter. Sharp and short like a burst with which German soldiers shot Polish postmen.

© translated by Serena Todesco and Silvestar Vrljić

Bilo je to vrtlarstvo površinskog sloja. Stroga zabrana svake ktonske alkemije. Uzgajanje razdvojenosti kao jedino dopušteno razmještanje žudnje. Oštro vibriranje osmijeha umontirao bih u scenu odgođenog susreta. I tako bih samo ugustio tu oštrinu. U najoštriji susret. Oštar i kratak kao rafal kojim su njemački vojnici strijeljali poljske poštare.

© Ivan Šamija