Martirij misli.
Sinje morje.
Siva jeca.
Vojak nabada misli obupne
na svoj bajonet
pred oknom.
Pardon. »O, nic.«
Sigaretta.
Eine Edison.
Cujem sinje morje,
ki bije enakomerno
ob mojo lobanjo.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem