by Vasko Popa
Where are you taking them on your towel
Time limps behind you
To catch up with you to run you over
Let’s see your horns snail
You crawl on a huge cheek
That you’ll never get to see
Straight into the plow of nothingness
Make a turn onto the life-line
In the palm of my hand in a dream
Before it’s too late
Leave me in bequest
Your wonder-working silver towel
Immigrant Stars
You looked at one another stars
Secretly so the sky wouldn’t see you
You meant well
And understood each other badly
The morning found you cold
Far from your fire
Far from the gate of heaven
Look at me stars
Secretly so the earth won’t see it
Give me secret signs
And I’ll give you the stick of cherry wood
One wrinkle on my face to be your path
One of my eyelashes to be your guide
And to take you all the way home
1962–1968
St. Sava’s Spring
St. Sava’s Spring
Clear eye inside a stone
Opened forever
With the kiss of the shepherd’s staff
Under its sleepy green eyelids
The grass hides and reveals
The cold transparent truth
On the bottom of this water
Glows the vegetal wolf’s head
With a rainbow in its jaws
Bathing in this water
Cures every fatal illness
A sip of this water
Every pain caused by life
Clear eye inside a stone
Open for everyone
Who sheds his black tear here
The Life of St. Sava
Hungry and thirsty for holy life
He left home
His own kind and himself
Became a servant
Of winged masters
Tended their gold-fleeced clouds
Groomed their thunder and lightning
All tied up in old books
Thus he spent his life
And earned the snake-headed staff
On that staff he rode
Back to the earth
Found his own kind and himself
Ageless and deathless he lives
Surrounded by his wolves
St. Sava
Bees circle his head
Building him a living halo
Thunder and lightning
Play hide and seek in his red beard
Sprinkled with linden blossoms
A chain hangs from his neck
And shudders in its iron sleep
On his shoulder a rooster burns
In his hand the wise staff sings
The song of the crossed roads
Time flows to the left of him
Time flows to the right of him
He walks on the dry land
Trailed by his wolves
St. Sava the Shepherd
He guards a herd of stones
On the green meadow
Inside the ancestral red cave
He helps each stone
To give birth
Wherever he sets out to
The herd trails after him
The hills thunder with stone-like steps
He halts in a clearing
Yellow and secluded
Stone after stone he milks
Gives his wolves to drink
The thick stone-milk
That mirrors the seven colors of the rainbow
Strong teeth and secret wings
Grow when you drink that milk
St. Sava the Blacksmith
From the surrounding hills
The wolves call out to him
Their backbones on fire
He extends to them the snake-headed staff
So that they may crawl
Peacefully to his feet
Washes them in boiling blood
Of the holy ancestral lead
And wipes them with his red beard
Out of pig iron he hammers
A new backbone for them
And sends them back into the hills
With their long howl
The wolves greet him
From the swept peaks
St. Sava’s School
He sits high in a pear tree
And mutters something in his beard
Listens
How the honey-mouthed leaves
Pray using his words
Watches how through the hills
The fire-spreading wind
Curses using his words
Smiles
And slowly chews the book
Of the master of the universe
Then calls the hungry wolves
From the top of a pear tree
He throws them pages filled
With long-necked red letters and white lambs
St. Sava’s Travels
He travels over the dark earth
With his staff out in front
He cuts the darkness in four
Throws the fat mittens
Changed into tomcats
On the grey army of mice
Unties the fetters in the midst of a storm
Ties to the motionless stars
The earth made of old oak
Washes the paws of his wolves
So the tracks of dark land
Will not remain on them
Travels without a road
And the road is born in his wake
St. Sava at His Spring
He sees his third eye
Inside a stone
Sees in the righteous water
His plundered coffer
Full of ripe teat-like pears
Sees his wolf’s head
And on the forehead the inscribed sign
Of the newly promised constellation
Sees his staff break into blossom
And his happily fertile earth
With its deeply blushing buds
Two of his eyes he closes
With a third he stares into a stone
1958–1971
Homage to the Lame Wolf
1
Go back to your lair
Shamed lame wolf
And sleep there
Until the barking freezes
And the curses rust and the torches die
Of the collective hunt
Until everyone drops
Empty-handed into himself
And bites off his tongue in despair
The dog headed chiefs with knives behind their ears
The hunters with your severed cock over their shoulders
And their wolf-eating dragons
On all fours I crawl before you
And howl in your glory
And that of your great
Green centuries
And I pray to you my old lame god
Go back to your lair
2
I prostrate myself before you
Lame wolf
I lie between your effigies
Mutilated and burning
And disguised to look like mud
I fall among them
With my face in your holy nettles
And together with them I burn
My mouth is full
Of their wood-like flesh
And golden eyebrows
I prostrate myself before you
Give me a sign growl at me to rise
Lame wolf
3
Accept my pauper’s gifts
Lame wolf
I bring on my back a sheep made of iron
A sip of mead in my mouth
For your jaws to amuse themselves
A bit of holy water in my pal
m
To practice miracles
A wreath of iris
Plaited to fit your head
So you don’t forget who you are
And samples of latest wolf traps
For you to examine carefully
Accept my gifts
Do not scatter them with your divine tail
Lame wolf
4
Turn your eyes toward me
Lame wolf
Breathe on me with the fire in your mouth
So I chant in the glory of your name
In our ancestral linden-like tongue
Scratch with your claws on my forehead
Celestial nicks and marks
So that I may become the interpreter of your silence
And bite my left hand
So your wolves bow down to me
And choose me as their shepherd
Turn your eyes toward me
Don’t stare at your fallen statue anymore
Lame wolf
5
Lift the stone from your heart
Lame wolf
Show me how you turn a rock
Into a sunlit cloud
And a cloud into a deer with golden horns
And if this doesn’t tire you show me
How you turn a deer into white basil
And basil into six-winged swallow
And explain to me if you remember
How you change a swallow into a fire-snake
And snake into precious stone
Lift the stone from your heart
And lay it down on mine
Lame wolf
6
Let me draw near
Lame wolf
Let me pluck
The three wonder-working hairs
From your triangular head
Let me touch with my stick
The star on your forehead
The stone over your heart
The left and then the right ear
And let me kiss
The wounded holy paw
Resting on a cloud
Let me draw near
Don’t frighten me with your hallowed yawns
Lame wolf
7
Go back to your lair
Lame wolf
And sleep there
Until your coat grows again
And new iron teeth sprout
Sleep till the bones of my ancestors
Flower and branch out
And spear the earth’s crust
Sleep till your lair shakes
And tumbles down on your head
Sleep till your tribe
From the other side of heaven
Wakens from your howling
Go back to your lair
I’ll visit you and wait on you in dreams
Lame wolf
Wolf ’s Earth
1
I don’t see our sunlit earth father
The wolf has it swaddled
In his black howl
It seems he rips her
Out of her own root
Together with her golden
And his bruised heart
He feels early death approaching
His or hers or the death
Of the three-headed sun above her
Does he fear for himself father
Or for her sunlit apparition
2
I see our sleeping earth son
The wolf licks her cheeks
With his tongue on fire he throws light on her
And she smiles in her sleep
As if being burnt at the stake
In his grey shadow he shelters her
And in sleep she grows old
As if drowning beneath the ashes
Is he getting ready son
To devour her asleep
Or is he only checking
If she’s dead or alive
3
I don’t see our beautiful earth father
The wolf kneels upon her
With one paw he strokes her
Or likely slowly strangles her
With the other he rips
The low sky just above him
The hairs on his back have the glow
Of grass after love-making
Or perhaps the grass of wrath
On the day of his birth
Does the wolf have a sweet tooth
For her bitter flesh
Or does he just pray to her beauty
4
I see son our crucified earth
Among the four honing-wheels
On which the wolf sharpens his teeth
The wolf bends over her
And sees his anger mirrored
In her green eyes
The sparks from the wheel
Make halo after halo
Around his beautiful head
The four wheels must know son
Does he sharpen his teeth for her crucified
Or for the ones who crucified her
5
I see the wolf father
With horns of a young moon on his head
It is our maiden earth
He carries on his horns
He carries her and she doesn’t struggle
As though she were dead
Or tragically in love
On none of the earth’s roads he carries her
He carries her somewhere up there
Most likely into his lair
Which he plans to dig in heaven
For her and for himself
Father is he taking her away from us
Or just rescuing her
6
Through the ribs of a wolf son
I see our promised land
It has a shape of an Easter Lamb
The wolf’s heart throws light on her
In a midst of a dark red sea
Either she was swallowed long ago
And is now neither dead nor alive
Or she’s about to get herself ready
For a new birth
It all depends on the wolf’s hunger
And on our polestar in the sky
And on nothing else son
The Little Box
The Little Box
The little box gets her first teeth
And her little length
Little width little emptiness
And all the rest she has
The little box continues growing
The cupboard that she was inside
Is now inside her
And she grows bigger bigger bigger
Now the room is inside her
And the house and the city and the earth
And the world she was in before
The little box remembers her childhood
And by a great great longing
She becomes a little box again
Now in the little box
You have the whole world in miniature
You can easily put in a pocket
Easily steal it easily lose it
Take care of the little box
The Admirers of the Little Box
Sing little box
Don’t let sleep overtake you
The world’s awake in you
In your square emptiness
We turn far into near
Forgetting into memory
Don’t let your nails come loose
For the very first time
We see the world
Through your keyhole
Your key we turn in our mouths
Swallow words and numbers
From the song you sing
Don’t let your lid fly open
Your bottom drop
Sing little box
The Craftsman of the Little Box
Don’t open the little box
The cap of heaven will drop out
Don’t close her for any reason
She’ll bite through the trouser-leg of eternity
Don’
t drop her on the ground
The sun’s eggs will break inside her
Don’t throw her in the air
Earth’s bones will break inside her
Don’t hold her in your hands
The starry dough will go sour inside her
What are you doing for heaven’s sake
Don’t let her out of your sight
The Owners of the Little Box
Line the inside of the little box
With your own precious skin
And make yourself cozy in it
Just as if you were in your own home
Make space voyages inside her
Gather stars make time squirt its milk
And sleep in the clouds
Just don’t go around pretending
You’re more important than her length
And wiser than her width
If you do we’ll sell for a song
Your box and everything inside her
To first breeze that comes along
We don’t care about profit
And don’t keep spoiled goods
So don’t go babbling
It’s us who told you this
From inside the little box
The Tenants of the Little Box
Throw into the little box
A stone
You’ll take out a bird
Throw in your shadow
You’ll take out the shirt of happiness
Throw in your father’s dick
You’ll take out the axle of the universe
The little box works for you
Throw into the little box
A mouse
You’ll take out an earthquake
Throw in your mother’s honeypot
You’ll take out a chalice of eternal life
Throw in your head
You’ll take out two
The little box works for you
The Enemies of the Little Box
Don’t bow down to the little box
Which supposedly contains everything
Your star and all the other stars
Empty yourself
In her emptiness
Pull all her nails out
And give them to her owners
To eat
Drill a hole in her middle
And stick in your dick
Fill her with blueprints
And the skin of her makers
And trample on her with both feet
