I. Bel obraz / A White Face

Po enakonočju prihaja obdobje svetlobe. Danes, 21. 3., je praznik – svetovni dan poezije in začetek pomladi. S tem dnem začenjam z objavo cikla desetih pesmi Načini potovanja. Vsaka pesem prihaja iz drugačnega kotička planeta in jo predstavljam z eno izbrano fotografijo. Vsako nedeljo bo sledila nova pesem, v kateri združujem umetnost in potovanje. Potuj z menoj.” Uroš Marolt

After the equinox the period of light is coming. Today, on the 21st of March, is a holiday – the World Poetry Day and the first day of Spring. Today I am starting to publish a cycle of ten poems Ways of Travelling. Each poem comes from a different part of the planet and I am presenting it with one chosen photography. Every Sunday a new poem will follow, unifying the art and travelling. Travel with me.” Uroš Marolt

Lapland, 2014

Bel obraz

(iz cikla Portreti v ledenem ogledalu)

Bela pokrajina nosi bel obraz. Med redkimi

bori pobliskavajo redke zvezde. Razdalje tu so

neznanske. Srečal sem belo ptico z rdečo obrvjo.

Srečal sem jelenovo rogovje, pribito na les.

Sled krvi in puh, ki ga veter vrti v dlani, sem srečal.

Srečal sem oko v ledu in smeh v ledu. Upal sem,

da srečam nekoga na smučeh in s sanmi, pritrjenimi

ob boke. Da bi ga vprašal: Kam greš? In: Kako preneseš

tolikšno tišino? S sekiro sem razbil led in našel svoj obraz,

odet v smešno cofasto kapo. Kam greš? Kako preneseš

tolikšno tišino? Čeber vode postavim nad ogenj, poslušam.

A White Face

(from the Portraits in the Ice Mirror)

A white landscape is wearing a white face. Among rare

pine trees rare stars are glinting. Distances here are

endless. I met a white bird with a red eyebrow.

I met the antlers of a deer nailed to the wood.

A trace of blood and a fluff swirling in wind’s hand – I met.

I met an eye in the ice and a laugh in the ice. I had hoped

to meet someone on skis with a sleigh strapped to the hips.

To ask him: Where are you going? And: How can you endure

all that silence? I cracked the ice with an axe and found my face

in a silly tassel hat. Where are you going? How can you endure

all that silence? I place a bucket of water on the flame, and listen.

Written, translated & photographed by: Uroš Marolt