Pavol Janik Biography
Mgr. art. Pavol Janik, PhD., (magister artis et philosophiae doctor) was born in 1956 in Bratislava, where he also studied film and television dramaturgy and scriptwriting at the Drama Faculty of the Academy of Performing Arts (VSMU). He has worked at the Ministry of Culture (1983-87), in the media and in advertising. He was President of the Slovak Writers' Society (2003-07), Secretary-General of the SWS (1998-2003, 2007-2013) and Editor-in-chief of the literary weekly of the SWS Literarny tyzdennik (2010-2013). He has received a number of awards for his literary and advertising work both in his own country and abroad.
This virtuoso of Slovak literature, Pavol Janik, is a poet, dramatist, prose writer, translator, publicist and copywriter. His literary activities focus mainly on poetry. Even his first book of poems, which appeared a quarter of a century ago, attracted the attention of the leading authorities in Slovak literary circles. He presented himself as a plain-spoken poet with a spontaneous manner of poetic expression and an inclination for irony directed not only at others, but also at himself. This style has become typical of all his work, which in spite of its critical character has also acquired a humorous, even bizarre dimension. His manner of expression is becoming terse to the point of being aphoristic. It is thus perfectly natural that Pavol Janik's literary interests should come to embrace aphorisms founded on a shift of meaning in the form of puns. In his work he is gradually raising some very disturbing questions and pointing to serious problems concerning the further development of humankind, while all the time widening his range of themes and styles. Literary experts liken Janik's poetic virtuosity to that in the work of Miroslav Valek, while in the opinion of the Russian poet, translator and literary critic, Natalia Shvedova, Valek is more profound and Janik more inventive. He has translated in poetic form several collections of poetry and written works of drama with elements of the style of the Theatre of the Absurd. Pavol Janik’s literary works have been published not only in Slovakia, but also in Albania, Belarus, Bulgaria, Canada, Chile, Croatia, the Czech Republic, France, Hungary, India, Israel, Jordan, Macedonia, Romania, the Russian Federation, Serbia, South Korea, Ukraine, United Kingdom, the United States of America and Venezuela.
Barefoot
you leap from star to star.
And each time there's a chime
...
Gde su te stare pesme?
O čemu su bile?
Kome su bile važne?
Negde u nama
od njih je ostala
satnina u Nirnbergu,
frankfurtski pornografski bioskop,
koka kola preko puta Mulen Ruža,
Lenjin u marseljezkom izdanju,
izbledela razglednica Azurne obale,
dokumenti ukradeni u Rimu,
nerazvijene fotografije
Krivog tornja u Pizi,
noć u Firenci,
bolonjski homoseksualci,
golubovi u šest ujutru
na trgu Svetog Marka,
našmakana carinarka
u vozu iz Beča
za Devinsku Novu Ves.
Gde su te stare pesme?
Već ih niko neće zapisati.
Nikada nikome nisu trebale.
U Evropi naglo isključili struju.
Vratila se tama koja je bila
pre pojave svetla.
Idemo po sećanju
po plafonu našeg stana.
Deca nam se smeju iz sna.
Na ulazu u nigde
jednom će nam vratiti novac
za ulaznice
u život,
koji vredi
iako ne mnogo.
Samo se smrt ne plaća.
Pixiades, Smiljana
...
Negde je sevnulo,
kao da je u meni zasvetlela
maglovita uspomena
o postanku svemira.
Mirisala si kao cveće,
čije latice su
snežile na naša tela
i ljutile sve drugove
komunalnih službi.
Tvoje oči, u bilo kom pravcu
da gledale,
svojevoljno su svetlele u tami
kako bi ogledale prigušena svetla
manjih eksplozija na nebu.
Opojno si me lišavala čula
i zdravog razuma
uprkos zakona
o borbi protiv alkoholizma
i narkomanije.
Tobom sam
večito nezakonito opijen.
I danas mi zaustavljaš dah željom
za tobom
u najnezgodnijim trenucima.
Eksplodiraš u meni
kao najbolji eksploziv
oslobađajući snagu
voćnog jezgra.
Pulsiraš u mojim venama
uporna kao oštro svetlo.
Zbog trajnog kršenja
saobraćajnih propisa
uvek će nas kažnjavati
neugasivi požar moje krvi
u istaknutim ogledalima
tvojih očiju.
Pixiades, Smiljana
...
(Za Miroslava Valeka)
Koreni rastu u zemlju kao kovčezi,
operski pevači
onomatopejski ispiraju grlo na pozornici,
bura prevrće talase na obalu kaljuge.
To sve u prvom trenutku
posle zaborava na otkriće Amerike.
Na dnu svoje duše
svako popravlja svoj
lični Titanik.
Nebeski svod se osipa na zemlju
kao blistavi sneg.
I mrtvi ostaju s nama
nemi kao pridike.
Pixiades, Smiljana
...
Otičeš od mene
kao plin.
S divljenjem posmatram
kako samo jednim pokretom,
prebacivanjem noge preko noge,
pališ svilenu haljinu.
Oslepljujućom nagošću protivrečiš nebeskom plavetnilu.
Raspaljen plamenom, a možda i sasvim drugačije,
oslovljavam vatru
koju ti nećeš ugasiti.
Tada sam hteo da bar to najvažnije otkrijem svim
slučajnim prolaznicima,
slučajnim, naokolo kružećim letilicama.
Pa, ko pod takvim okolnostima ne bi zabrljao?
Pixiades, Smiljana
...
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
12/18/2025 5:40:36 AM # 1.0.0
