On pinkish paper


Roma-Capalbio. Photo: MM

By Rade Šerbedžija

i’m watching you now

you are slightly foreign

yet perfectly mine

and i’m watching

where the fingers on your hand

swiftly morph into mine

and how your feet walk like mine

and your face and your – my – wrinkles

and your pupils

and everything you ever say

and how in fact i know myself only now

and where the symbol of equality forms

next to something that once was foreign

and where belonging grows

as soon as what others call love starts to fade

what we’ve got to do is walk

for a long time

walk together

you will be here and i will be here

and we will not know each other

until one night our faces

quietly leaning cheek to cheek

tell us something that allures like music

three times dead we are three times stronger

and your hand radiates in my fist

and there are no more questions

yet what this means

we will ourselves forget

(translated by Manja Maksimovič on the spot)

(Please unsee and excuse this terrible terrible youtube image but I like to listen to him say it.)


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