Translated from the Slovenian by Peter Richards and the author
There’s still space for a golden door,
there’s still space for the darkness of a prince.
Flashes of crystals, unite.
Break the arch.
There are still crenels, the crenels,
the crenels under the linden tree,
in the crenel under the linden tree there are black ships.
Still the waves break like whispering,
the wings they imprint themselves
like rum, like triumph.