JANKO POLIC KAMOV
Freedom
For eighteen years a terrible th o ught crept thro ugh Ill y nature, m y ideas
and m y feelings . I Ll sed to bl anch and trelllbl e, I was awe-s tri cken out of
fea r. Today I bb nc h an d trelllble and I am awe-s tri cken o ut o f pass io n. My
li fe is in full bloom: m y temper is like th at of a dog go ne rab id from thirst.
T here is but o ne mood in Ill y eyes and Ill y soul , o ne w ill in my ideas and
reali za ti o ns , o ne fe elin g o n Ill y to ngue and in m y heart. If I we re to CO Ill –
mit a crime, I would no t co nceal it; if I commi t it in Ill y th o ughts, ['11
con fess it. Eve rythin g inside lIl e seeks an ex it, stri ves fo r expressio n and
fi nds it. I lose Ill y temp t:!" q ui ckl y, un expec tedl y, lIl adl y; w hen I quarrel,
when I drink , w hen I lIl akc love, w hen I sin g. O nc glass makes me drunk ,
one look drives me crazy, o ne phrase enraptures me. Eve rything is speed ,
moment and instin ct. T hcsc two years are but a Ill Olll ent: spirituality with–
out process, fc elin g w ith o ut :lIlal ysis. My nature is-oppos iti o n; m y log ic
- indi sc iplin e; Ill y philosophy-revo luti o n . Pube rty' Eve rythin g is fin ally
crushed : goodn ess, ho lin ess and fa miliari ty: a quarte r o f an ho ur's embrac–
ing and kissin g renders 1Il 0 re p leas ure th an all that w hi ch kept me home.
At th e bosom of th e most lowly woman
r
fo rget m y fa mi ly, Illy upbring–
ing and shame; and w hen I am at home, I o nl y remember that I was abl e
to fo rget at anybody's breas t all th at now surro un ds me, traps me and makes
me bitter. A drunken party ex hil arates Ill e as mu ch as a woman; o nly w ith
a hangove r am I able to w rite poems. I do not di stingui sh betwee n the
grammar sc hoo l studcnt, the serva nt and th e prostitute, no r betwee n wine,
beer and brandy. I drink to ge t drunk and to make love until I alll full. In
brief, I love eve rythin g th;lt m y f;uh er condemns . H e is g rave, sobe r and
ethi cal. Fo r him , life beg ins with marri age; for me, that is w here it ends. H e
is enchanted by lIli ldn ess, love, goodn ess: th e N ew Tes tament; I am
enchanted by pass io n , vio lencc, crime : th e Old Tes tament. Hi s ideal is
Chri st th e R ed eemer; min e is D evil th e Sedu ce r. To hilll , a prostitute is
loa thsome; to m e she is luxuri o us. H e would say : th e fa mil y is the reaction
to a bro thel; I wo uld say-a bro thel is th e oppos iti o n to the fa mily. In a
word , I am an o ppos iti o nary, and he is a reac ti o nary.
But we do n't di scuss it. Wh en I am o ut all ni ght drinki ng, he is taci–
turn , sullen and o ffcnd cd . I stay out a second ni gh t, and he is silent, he
smil es and leaves. And a third ni ght o ut wo uld be too Illu ch... .1 write
poems, he wri tes IIlcllloirs. Our eyes rarely meet; we become confu sed and
