*în cinstea „morților din cada mea” / *in honour of „the corpses in my tub”
„tell the world that I’m coming home”
as if life would lie beyond the bars
of a city just as bleak as you
I feel that I cry after a corpse
who leaves the awning
for the last time
I want to cling onto him
to kiss him on the mouth
in the hope I’ll be kissed back
my love flies over centuries
you’ll not be here to slash my words
nights shall be luminated
in a glass of water from moldavia’s head
I’ll keep jolting my fingers in seeds
and I shall never cry
on the shoulder standing in line behind you
it's funny how
at a neon lit rendezvous
that alluring fever that used to warm your veins
can so diametrically reveal
as nothing more or less
than a sharp disguise of that horror black hole
that's been hunting to suck you in for years
with its manifold avatars,
like ribald voices,
lifeless figures
and the filthiest and most insidious of all,
that of artful tongues and skin warmth.
reservoir senses, what we do first with horizontal moments
emerging reefs and lickuids
back-room powers spill lifetimes sink lifeboats
never enough how much we place around
for something to take place
when love is a displaced volume
Le soir, sur la colline, le buccin se lamente,
Les troupeaux remontent, les étoiles brillent par la sente,
Les eaux sanglotent, prenant clairement leur source aux puits ;
Sous un acacia, tu es là qui m’attends, chérie.
La lune traverse le ciel, sacro-sainte et notoire,
Tes grands yeux ont l’air de scruter les feuilles bien rares,
Asfințește... E seară...
Mireasma clipelor trecute
plutește în aer...
Inima le-a strâns pe toate
măsurând veșnicia
ca un orologiu
vechi
dintr-o casă bătrână
și uitată, de țară,
un orologiu grav
și melancolic,
pe care se aștern
an de an,
rând pe rând,
amintirile vieții...
alb
obrazul ceasului
lăcrimează cifre romane
pe umerii tăi
întorc privirea
un gînd trecător
ca un painajen
secundele
se îngrămădesc
de atîta frig
apoi adorm
adînc
în noi
white
clock's face weeping
roman numbers
over your shoulders
a passing thought
like a spider
so cold
time is falling asleep
inside us
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