I'M Making A Text Poem by Branko Maleš

the fist that closes and then opens
that's the pump that's the heart-the muscle-fat
that's the rhythm-good-hoot
children from school when you hopped
you played the cortazar's hop-scotch
that's the fist that throws
(in the sky)
a piece flat and squat
the sky is above 7
the sky is a circle's slice
(why is it always a circle)
the best of pupils arrive in heaven
the fist that opens like wire into 5 senses
growing blooming lily is quite
good that we know the two of them: if and but
(this eliminates the possibility of a single truth)
our hairs are gray
and we make a story out of this
caoutchouc like a gaucho cheeps
that's the throat's delight

Translation Tomislav Kuzmanović