Chapter 26 O Trinkova
In English we would call you Ivan Trinko Street
But you deserve better.
We don’t want people asking us who you were, Mr. Trinko,
For even though you were a Roman Catholic priest, A poet, a writer, a philosopher, a translator, a
linguist, a critic, a composer–
Not to mention a painter–
When I asked a poet about you she said
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Maybe you did too much.
Let us look at the benighted beginning of your street:
I made the picture small as if I were your grandchild
And I loved you
Because where a triangle of freedom opened up on Gregorčičeva
Where you were interesting
Going two directions at once
Perhaps a poet flank past that little round sign
And a philosopher flank to the left that takes us down close to the sea
Where you had your opportunity they put a garbage kennel
You deserved better.
Down you go! Go, Ivan, go!
Unless you need to stop first to dump your garbage
Or hop on your motorcycle and come back up.
As you know, translators go both ways
And critics sometimes have to escape in haste
You might need to zip up to the church that is so near, just one short street behind the camera man
You never were a camera man, yet, still, Ivan, you deserved better.
Your opportunity to make your mark as a street poet in Izola
Is evident in the photo to my right
A surprise move
A different Trinko
Classic, decadent, historic, jaded
Exuding all the charm inherent in an old
Look how the building itself stumbles down
But is there an uglier building in the old town than that drek brown stump before you?
No: wait! Have you tricked me, philosopher-poet?
Or are you a swine who would have a segment of Gramsci’s street
To make up for what is lacking in your own?
No, Ivan, you have no side street, you merely descend
You would have us pick up speed, only to zig, to zag, pick up more speed
And then run smack into a wall!
We deserved better.