Booksies, March

G and I offed to buy some trousers for me, as I only have one good pair left, but then he pushed me into the town bookstore and let me roam around for half an hour, gathering the possible choices: three top of which were the Ljubljana colouring book, The Flattened Rabbit picture book and a poetry novelty by T. Pavček and illustrated by a guy called Bear. Impossible to decide, I opted for the most costly one, as I figured I'll be able to buy the cheapest one on my own some day, and G secretly bought the Bunny one (Drej and I saw this one once and felt completely in love with it. It's just so silly. Though of course I will never read it, in case it's not :D) Who needs clothes when there are so many majesty books in this world?!

I think he is secretly in love with the fact that I can walk into the bookstore and bark: Where you got that flattened rabbit with issues at?!.. and the man behind the counter knows exactly what i am talking about...

Lemme try to translate the poem (original rhymes) on the back cover of Pavček:

The footpath goes straight down the midst of creation
From violets, nestles to wheats and grapevines
over conquered and squandered empires
Gladly into life, unwillingly into death

Through me it goes horizontally and vertically
Until i am myself the walking and a path
because from a long time ago footprints
lay of my bare child's soles

Swallows vagrants still know of it
I once shared crumps with them
Now they are giving me a gift in return, knowing,
that a home, even cold, is generous.

The road goes from the home and there it returns
Like a swallow, or a prodigal son
Great distances a palm crumbles
and ties into a knot to remember it by

The footpath goes, the guide, though my life
Always along the vines and thorns into the eve
There a small, miniature creature
I return home like a stream into a spring.