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Sloveneback TOMAŽ ŠALAMUN
translation from Slovene by Brian Henry
Bees in Dew
Silver, dark green and
ocher bird feathers
were scattered across the grass.
Mama crawled naked over
four and chose them. Was there
sun?
Was there rain? There was gray dust
in the air. The Sava smelled of
sand. Violets are
foolish. They don’t know the weaponry
of potatoes. Keys
that unfold like tears.
They fall on the breeding ground
for turpentine. They fall under
the canopy. Under the sunny canopy. 
Contributor’s notes: Tomaž Šalamun
Contributor’s notes: Brian Henry