Translated material
Light almond
***
And \ The beginning of the end
1
And all those who live near the sea will not be afraid of death
where ports do not wait for grief
where palm trees tickle the sky
and the horses are buried in the ground
I saw people straining all their strength
they were lifting an empty load
their bodies are bowstrings and arrows
they would fly further and further
I walked between them unnoticed
like a drop running from the forehead
like the wind caressing terracotta faces
thin almost Roman profile
this sun is a lantern in the hands of a blind man
it certifies us under the imperial wing and under the laurel
I go down to the ports every day before lunch
drinking wine to dispel sadness
I play the zither for them while they leisurely drag their work, glorifying August
and his servants and his slaves
2
if you look beyond the known border that divides this land in half
then you will find nothing there but a short-cut steppe
and an eagle that is busy hunting
there the wine freezes, and the mouth needs something more healing
for the scent of Ovid's letters
that special knowledge that women pass on to children along with the smell of milk
something that will resist loneliness
in which they almost despair
tearing the thin paper of which the book of books is made
you will not feel anything extra
only love for people who move goods from place to place and vice versa
they will not know about her
because all love is secret
they will not hear of her
because love does not speak loudly
they will die without knowing what lies ahead
clouds absorb each other
and one force grows into another
there ahead, time and industry do not coincide
I am writing to you so that you
knew that marble brings snow!
and the city that warmed you with its arms will perish under the blows of foreigners
in their bodies we will recognize our bodies
in their hatred we will recognize our hatred
in their eyes we will see our eyes
and the loads will become heavy
without needing hands or bodies
and then I'll give you a lemon
you will give me back my skin
3
where the shore ends, the truth ends
element begins and time begins before time begins
where is the sea - is it in front or behind?
bunches of grapes hang over the head
the peasants will sip the wine, squeezing the blood into the bladders with their feet
they will dry the skins in the sun
bury the bones in the ground
I saw the abyss - it has one eye
probably it's Ulysses' business
nothing less
lies are always part of the truth
masters of forging stones are known for this
they always have a spare hope in their pocket
for children born in burrows
light can be fatal
who knows what will happen to us when we get out of the cave and whether we will not be burned for it
auto dafe
trial by fire
for those who leave prison before execution
as dizzy in the head
how cold and intoxicating
March maybe April
perhaps the only moment when he lived in the world
and here I am
on my forehead I stand with my forehead piercing the ground
it is death
breathes into the back of the head
it is fear that mows the feet like grass
I sing to you on my forehead
to all the slaves going forward
demanding a place to die
II \ End
1
you can't make out the roads at dusk
how to get from home to home
from what protected us to what did not protect us
from wall to wall
in between the holes themselves
these are clothes that have become older than us
it unravels in our hands into threads
maybe this is what will allow you to walk through the labyrinth of streets
where shadows give birth to night
it hides both the good and the bad
I saw dead branches
white bones are dry
who will light the lights
and will break the silence
silence
I hear meowing somewhere in the distance
it is the horned moon that gives the signal
about the herds going west
leaving what was known to the unknown
2
Almond blossomed unexpectedly
and flowers saw off the exiles
who did not seem to pay any attention to them
concentrating on the narrow track with their big bull heads down
they walk along dirty and dirty roads
leaving hoofprints on the wet earth that revealed everything hidden to them
all the truth that could not be reconciled with
and it turned out to be something that could not be overcome
and the further they go, the more they get bogged down in what they loved so much
that seemed to make up their lives
which determined their broad essence
what kept them so close to each other
the wind breaks against strong and copper bodies
and the echo rolls forward
ahead of herself
3
frosts make the earth hard
the bugle went out
and the voice is now lame
broken bush
and scattered flowers
a frozen dog gnaws at my insides, reaching the very heart
4
between death and death
between life and life
a spruce always grows
and weeping almonds
III \ Imprint
the leaf turns into a stone
the stone unfolds into a leaf
the leaves are sharp as arrows
arrows are sharp as leaves
wings
souls yearning to return home, but this path is pernicious
someday the sun will burn out
this beauty will make us speechless
tongueless
those
who walks on water
lighter than grass that overgrows wounds
and we will go beyond our own body
of their own free will
shedding the skin
for light
we will go to the steppe leaving the rocks behind
and the sea will become hard and green
and heaven will open its fish for us
and there will be no more
no to
not after
only footprints
which others will follow
deeper and deeper
and deeper
sinking into God's body
curling into a shell
listening
water