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Sloveneback TOMAŽ ŠALAMUN
translation from Slovene by Brian Henry
Pasolini
If a poem is a rainbow,
only a few degrees
are translatable. The sun must endure.
There’s darkness before, there’s darkness
after. The dog hears only
a certain sound. We don’t talk about
the oaks, they hear with their eyes. But
there are no eyes. No trees. There was
a stream in the moss. When the corpse
burned, my jaw
twitched. I imagined
frayed ropes rushing
through a pulley in Damascus. A basket
full of dates and figs, and soapwort. 
Contributor’s notes: Tomaž Šalamun
Contributor’s notes: Brian Henry