They should be standing in the northern winds, high above;

behind them rocks, before them sea waves,

above them giant rushing clouds

and blue sky and shining stars.

And they: of white marble –

like petrified thought -

in deep solitude, far from people.

Alone – in the solitude of nature.

Alone – in the solitude of universe,

So they can be closer to the primordial beginning,

unknown and eternally sought for.

They are stretching out their hands and screaming

out of dust

and praying and longing,

marked with the token of love and despair

and quiet expectation,

children of doubts and will.

 

I am burdened by all these visions,

and they want out, where they can actually breathe

their heavy doubt and burning longing.

 

Over there, closer to the vastness of the unknown.

I have to work, work a lot,

with gigantic force,

they are threatening like winds and black clouds –

I want to chisel them out of rock,

on the very spot,

like a primeval and undistorted thought.

 

Karla Bulovec