Vasko Popa

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