Poklicanost

Skozi dan se kotali
velika prozorna krogla
in izkrivlja zrak.

Tod mimo so nekoč šle krave;
odtrgale so del prostora,
da bi ga odnesle drugam;

zdaj so prazna mesta
naselili ptiči, ki švigajoč
krpajo prostor.

Toplota se opoteka
in še zadnjič zajame sapo,
preden potone.

Kar je bilo izbrano,
žari v vrhovih smrek,
vse ostalo

se brez besed
postavlja
v vrsto.

© Andrej Hočevar
De: Leto brez idej
Ljubljana: LUD Šerpa, 2011
ISBN: 978-961-6699-24-2
Producción de Audio: LUD Literatura, 2014

(On) being summoned

A big translucent ball
rolls through the day
contorting the air.

Once, cows passed this way,
tearing off pieces of space
to take elsewhere.

The vacant lots
are now inhabited by birds,
stitching zigzag space.

The heat wavers
and takes one last breath
before sinking.

The chosen glitters
on top of the spurs.

Everything else,
silently,
waits its turn.

Translated by Andrej Hočevar and Robin Parmar