Melanholicna harmonika
Kopalna sezija.
Modri bliski.
Cevlji št. 40.
...
The sun is autumn calm
as though in mourning;
...
A suicide in front of a mirror.
A frightened soul.
The wind moans in the black woods.
The night's tempest tears my heart from my chest.
...
Skozi moje srce stopa veliki slon.
Cirkus Kludsky, vstopnina 5 din.
Ne obesi bolesti na veliki zvon!
...
Mesecina je mrzla kakor sladoled.
Prazna kakor trubadurske pesmi.
Lepo je sedeti v senci noci.
Latrine, Pissoir. Tukaj.
...
The moonlight is ice-cream cold.
Empty as the songs of troubadours.
It is pleasant to sit in the shadow of the night.
Latrine, Pissoir. Here.
...
Our eyes were flooded
with burning lava.
And the grey dust
...
Hey, hey: it's raining on the houses of Ljubljana,
and they curtain themselves in grey against the sun.
...
I love you, the grey face in the grey
window of the coffee house - the face
with expectations.-
In the age of broken spears, ships,
...
Our windows are barred.
White barricades.
The American Indians know nothing
of gravity.
...