Like any symbolic point in space and time, the abyss has a double-sided quality – it unifies the height and the depth, the skies and the underground, the random chaos of the original big bang and the hell fire of the apocalypse. If we ignore the ambivalent nature of the abyss we easily lose sight of its fundamental cosmogenic importance. This is exactly what is happening in the present. When we stand on the rim of an abyss we are consumed by the overwhelming fear of falling down. The abyss is only a point of final dive and nothingness. Ever since we lost the gift of soaring up to the places where the very origin of freedom is nested, we have been left with only the abyss, a vertical drop into the death. This has devastating consequences for human speech as it brings out the fear of the speech of others. The cracks in the world that have brought the word are being brought to a halt at the edge of the abyss we tend to call noise. Nobody listens to anybody unless it is useful to us. We are cautious with other people’s voices and looking for what is beneficial to us. We are cautious and awaiting nouns circulating through the bloodstream of our own language making them thus familiar and known to us. We refuse to listen to unknown layers of a stranger’s speech drawing gibberish from the abyss of diversity. Barbara Korun’s poems witness to the above – through subtle weaving of depths and heights of poetic expressions and messages she brings into the world of paradox and abyss, rendering it through the sensuality of words and thoughts.