Dekleva Milan:
That Where We Look At

To look out

from the most tender touch of the two

who follow each other in lobe

like two same-sounding words in a dictionary.

Out, past, and beyond the will

or unsatisfaction,

or excitement

which separates things and their

perspectives.

Out, to a perfect plain and clear.

For a bloom is not to be understood

through the beginning of the bud,

nor through the fruit.

Neither is the essence

of silence.

As man is born from a farness

and for a distance,

so is all of importance already here.

To look out does not mean to look

into the strangeness of space,

for a body is borderless crumbliness

the soul only belongs to it

as much as

height belongs to a mountain.

That what we look to is time,

peculiarity of a stone,

a tormenting erosion of consciousness,

after

when outside itself

it recognized itself.

As man is born from here

and for here,

so is all importance a distance.

That where we go is time,

   the attitude of unity.