1.

Prevajalec, sinjeroki paznik.

Tu sem da me ponižaš.

?e se vrnem ?ista kolonij,

nama morda uspe.

Z mastnim podnožjem,

ki balina v kretnjah,

je koreninica skalila ihto.

In se prijemlje na strupe

kot jopi? prisebnosti.

Stiska obliko apetita,

ga nosi, vzvalovi.

Si prišla ponj substanca?

Seme so prebrali brodniki,

ga vzeli in nosili kot neprebojno srajco,

namerno pozabili na vonj gnijo?e kurjave.

O, biti na levu, ko ti prsi smrdijo!

Biti žgo?a ponjava.

Odpre?i grdo navado rezervacije sedel

in si trgati od lastnega usnja,

da se gravura teže ponovno nasloni.

 

/

translator, guard with bluely arms.

I am here for you to humiliate me.

If I return, clean of colonies,

maybe we could work it out.

With greasy foothill,

which throws jacks at gestures,

litlle root made the hast murkier.

And it clutches on poison

like a jacket of poise.

Squeezing shape of the appetite,

carrying it, waving.

Have you been looking it, substance?

The seed was picked by nautiluses,

they took it and wore it

like a bullet-proof shirt.

Intentionally forgot about

the smell of rotting heating.

O, to be on a lion, when your chest stink!

To be a burning tilt.

Harness away the bad habit of

saddle booking.

Tear from your own leather

that weight gravure can lean again.

 

 

2.

Iz hoste sem nosila

rogato izobilje v ne?kah.

Netopirjev stržen je bil so?en.

Zvin brsti?ja, v zarodni vnemi,

se bom pregrešila tukaj

s sladkobo, ki se mi še ni nalila?

S svetlobnim grlom,  ki puli kon?i?e.

Tu imaš psica, zgodbobranka,

izliti obrok, svoj medeninast ursa major.

Trepalnice mi rastejo v

neutrudne cule iz katerih kradem,

mi pletejo imena, poljube kazalcev

v revmo. Šla sem dlje,

kot je dopuš?al obris.

Šla po plemenu s seski košute.

Nau?ila sem se jih priklicati.

Moji otroci, kenofobisti,

iz kavnih zrn sem vas vzgojila.

 

/

From scrub, I was bringing

horned plentifulness in hutches.

The core of a bat was juicy.

Sprained brushwood, in germinal fervor,

will I sin here,

with a sweetness that hasn't been poured yet?

With optical throat, which pulls nerve ends.

Here you go bitch, storydefender,

splattered meal, your brassy Ursa major.

Eyelashes grow into

tireless bundles from where

I steal, knitting me names,

making index kisses into rheumatism.

I went further than contour allowed.

I went  over the tribe with teats of a doe.

I learned how to call them.

My children, from kenophobia,

I raised you from coffee beans.