You're the handsome honorable ox.
You're the white dead mountain.
From a lump we build fruits and throw them.
You're my juice.
——

Out of many door-hinges.
Out of many door-hinges the wild boar's
orb falls on the ground.
From where and to where and what.
Out of many door-hinges.

——

Zebra, the park and the father in the lump of blood.
——

Elephant lacquers the wind pale,
to embrace it with chinchilla.
Caress the puppet's paw,
ask for two toads.
And to get elephants on the poles,
one on each one,
glued together with white threads of
a tired spider who jumps.

——

Blood seems to be unbearable.

Translation: Michael Thomas Taren and Tomaž Šalamun