what is this tip toe dance I’m doing
around a purple room
without me moving a limb?
this pursing of lips and
imaginary fingers catching their kiss
at the other end
dim, turbid, huge waves, sometimes
troubled silt, quicksand
by sky water clouds
and you can not see
but the early mornings
you know, there has been a window you
crouched on the ledge because thus you could run
amongst the sands of darkness onto the path to stars,
a way often gilded by moon
and even when it was raining, was windy, or storm
barrier was not actually there
thus you could watch above,
until the sun scattered crystals
and the wall appeared in all his greatness
Et il n'a pas répondu.
La nuit passe sur la page blanche
s'ouvre sur sa voix par le tunnel des mots
Partout ce visage sans traits
il s'éloigne trop
il s'approche trop
et il n'y a que l'air qui se prépare à l'accueillir
N.B. Ce poème fait partie d'un "alphabet" poétique, le sens de chaque poème étant intimement lié au sens des autres. A suivre.
you’ll never understand me
o my friend
as my dog will never understand me
I was the steel child of my communist age
hard and beaten as a rock
deep and quiet
as a smoke cloud in the winter I was
fear my perfect toy
thousands worlds molded out of it
the joy of invisible theatre
the music of silence
words that nobody can remember today
spoken with courage and sorrow
Comentarii aleatorii