Michael Biggins
الانجليزية
ANDRAŽ
Moj brat stopi gol, lep kot deviški vrelec
v dvorano in ubije jagnje iz ljubezni:
jemo in premišljujemo sliko.
Sani zarjavijo čez poletje, nebo se zniža
in postane vlažno, zemlja rodi jagode.
Vojaki stojijo lačni
med narcisami rumenimi kot noč,
jasna, jasna straža;
roloji so spuščeni in zaklenjeni,
markacija pelje v gore, v Trnovski gozd,
o, Čaven, zrak nabit z angeli,
krediti armade, kruh, kruh,
o, Sibila, razlita, strnjena barva,
nepremično, nespremenljivo hrepenenje.
من: Amerika
Maribor : Založba Obzorja, 1972
الإنتاج المسموع: Študentska založba
ANDRAŽ
my brother strides naked
beautiful as a virgin spring
through the hall, kills the lamb
with love
we eat and meditate on the image
sleds rust between winters, the sky gets lower
and grows damp
the earth bears strawberries
soldiers stand hungry
among daffodils yellow as night
a clear, pure guard
shutters, closed and locked
trail markers in the woods and mountains
O Mt. Caven, air crowded with angels
army tracks, bread, bread
O Sibyil, split hardened color
immovable, unalterable itch
© by White Pine Press