Cvetka Bevc

Cvetka Bevc (1960), poet, writer and musician, majored in Musicology and Comparative Literature from the Faculty of Arts in Ljubljana and continued studies at University College Cork, Ireland. She is a member of the Slovene Writers' Association, Slovene PEN Centre and the editing staff of Poetikon magazine. She is the author of radio plays, she published over twenty books and writes prose, poetry, young adult literature and dramatic works. She has participated in literary readings at home as well as abroad, the sellection of her works are translated in different languages, recipient of few awards, among other: her novel Potovci was one of the finalists for the 2012 Kresnik award and recipient of the Silver Poet's Pen from the international poetic festival Slovanski objem (Slavic Embrace) in Varna (Bolgaria) 2014. She lives and works in Ljubljana.

 

(Foto: Murr)


Morning poem for birds

 

We live under the mercy of birds,

who gave us their nests,

Still warm from the heat of their wings.

Which is why I am not afraid to fly.

I am only afraid of history,

which documents shot down planes

more thoroughly than the falls of birds

and wipes from memory the rulers of our world.

Birds teach their children

before their first flight

the word earth,

so that they can show them the sky.

From high above, we humans seem small.

We build houses for wounded birds from clouds

as homes for our lost dreams,

we move them between the stars

like the tents of a nomadic tribe

along the desert, sowed with the mirages

of winged creatures made of sand.

And in their eyes

we look for support for our soul in a well,

where water had long dired out.

One single tear of a bird

can permanently quench a man's thirst.

He has but to sprinkle some seeds on his window sill

without expecting the deed to be returned.

I try over and over again to feed the birds,

I sow in the sky, I plant seeds in the water,

I reap the rocks, stones, sand

I ripple among bird chatter

And I take the fluffy laughter as payment

for my effort. Or as crumbs of hope.

That life is merely a learning period about

How to be born into a bird's heart

kako se roditi v ptičje srce.

 

Translation: Anja Podgornik