she who speaks with tigers...

i udišem ti vrat, ruke, dah.
Ne žurim,
opuštam se u tu dugu predigru daha,
tog najpromiskuitetnijeg od svih mi ljubavnika
onog koji je prije sekundu bio u tebi
sad je u meni.
I ima li tome kraja?
Ne, dok ima daha.

Just a woman in the bones,
in the marrow,
in the dark soft belly
underneath the surface,
in the core of the earth
that is ruled by silence.
Silence among the leaves of grass
silence among the roots of every tree;
steeped in dark silence
is the root of me,
the woman
who howls in the dark night
and runs with the night creatures
with wild flowers and fowls -
a symphony of life steeped in silence.

Cool earth touches my forrest feet,
the wind sharply pulses with my breath,
drops of sweat follow my heartbeat
down to the earth again,
beads of sweat dripping the silence
down my back,
down the soft wild heated curves,
down to the sweet earth again.
I, the woman,
feed the earth with dripping silence
and the earth receives me, silently,
she holds my soft darkness
like she holds the grass and the trees,
powerfully,
pulls my roots down to its
pulsing burning core
and feeds me back with her juicy fire,
she keeps the life in me,
keeps the beath in the heart,
while I run, through the dark,
with the wild creatures, flowers and fowls
feeling the grass and trees
in silence.