slovensky english

Martin Solotruk in translation

solotruk.jpg

That All Too Moving Contraction of Emotion


Lying flat,
I was all in movement,
in the most unexpected places.
And out of the blue a gust
of cool magnetism.

"What if I get a head cold
off the wall,"
completely seized
by a rare feeling of eureka,
a savage, touching

film of exuberance,
hard to project
other than concentrically.

Is it because we aren't
quite positioned yet?

Because we still feel
something quietly
coming out of the walls?

Something perceptible
only with the oldest
parts of the brain,

when we entered here,
a few thousand steps ago,
each of us placed a half-step differently.

We were exactly like that,
defined by the oldest
parts of the brain —
you by yours and I by mine

and now we are reading
under one hemisphere
of a lamp.

Yours is sometimes
right above your forehead,
mine beside my ear.

We're reading under one lamp —
I mine, you yours.
Under one lamp,
but our fingers

sometimes wander —
mine into yours, yours into mine.

We still want to touch,
— to let a finger stop a finger.

So they would tingle together.

We're here,
but the chemical traces of
our fingers aren't yet.

I'm thinking of the relationship
between caressing and
touching walls,

of what enters me
through your touch
and whether I could get a cold from it.

Get a heartfelt cold.

Can the head
pass through its hard wall?
Without catching a cold?

Can emotion rise out of the body?
Even without the bitter white tears
that sometimes overtake the caressing?

While my head is cooling off,
may I at least wink at you?

So? Can emotion rise out of the body?

*

Publikácia v slovenčine

lovestory.jpg
Lovestory: Agens a Paciens

*

Copyright © Martin Solotruk 2012
Translation © Zuzana Starovecká 2012
Language Editor © John Minahane 2012
ISBN 978-80-89283-50-7
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