A BALLAD FOR METKA KRASOVEC

"Let various Marxists and the herd still/ shuffling outside my door gnash their/ teeth, but I'm living/ now. All I/ do is slightly/ rearrange the struggle for the seed flowing/ in the universe." Originally published in his native Slovenian in 1981—and just in time for May Day now—this heartbreakingly wry set of verse letters from the poet to his wife, Metka Krasovec, and their circle finds the poet globetrotting from behind the iron curtain, an "awesome salesman from the least./ (I meant to write from the east/ but mistyped.)." In over 100 short missives—some written at Yaddo—the poet elegizes Mayakovsky (dead at 37, the poet's age) and Mandelstam; wonders "Are you eating enough meat?"; and decides, with a smile, "I'd like to die with a red cap on my head." Psychic complexities ("suffering joins fear and disgust") and sexual longings complicate his travels further. All four of the other Salamun collections available in the U.S. are selections from among his 30 or so books; this midcareer volume is the first to be translated and published in toto. Aside from being wonderful poetry—the translations by University of Washington Slavic and East European studies librarian Michael Biggins have tremendous energy and ease—the book gives immediate and fascinating insight (and hindsight) into the paradoxes of the cold war writer's life in the East: "I'm here./ My hands shine./ America is my fate." (May 1)

Forecast:Based in Prague, 10-year publishing veteran Twisted Spoon (www.twistedspoon.com) maintains a series of English-language expatriate writers; another of Czech-based "Bohemicus" writers; a beautifully produced Kafka series; and "Contemporary Writing from Central Europe"—of which this lovely paper-with-flaps edition is part. Salamun already has a large following in the U.S.; this book need only reach his readers for it to become their favorite.