Tomaž Šalamun

Arrival of the Sun and the Sunset

Isn't the juice
rolling above the dome
neat?

Frogs, crickets, trees, shoulders, they all
stare, sunken in water, and
gaze. Their eyes are in juice, in

water. The soul is
nibbled at. It stands above and
in between the planks.

The vault is
of stone.
We walked for a long time and

crammed the interior of the cathedral,
running from Turks. Three layers
of people at the whole

space, and only
the lower ones could lay on the cold
pavement.



Translated from the Slovenian by Thomas Kane and the author

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