DIALOGUE OF SWORDS

(translated by Karin Pečnikar)

You ache me no more.

I can confess this now –

to you, to myself:

There is a closeness between us.

Both gladioli by descent,

yet you are violet-red

and I am orange-yellow.

A common origin? How hilarious!

Or is it? Two swords we are,

two swordsmen –

gladiators… if you will.

Enemies and competitors

by nature.

A common nest

and a wild, inbred

disdain for color.

But we are here – in the same vase.

What a family! What color!

Under the same sun,

in the same picture. Is there more to add?

The others – silent as a sword.

The beauty of harmony quite impossible…