Rose
Falling Into Night
The
miracle begins with touching
the strings of night
streams find their way
through narrow crevasses
falling stars twinkle in our eyes
Nested in
each other we watch
the rose falling into night
as if reuniting
with a childhood garden
On the
carousel of our dance
we whirl
two angels
in an embrace with clouds
I, the
night’s star-lighter
you, the city’s thief of hearts
What a
miracle it is
as if we were born
on the first morning of the world
As if we
did not before exist
rivers have flowed to our bed.
Skeleton Man
Eventually the skeleton of the man was hidden in the
well
would moan in the soul of the night
The man was unable to feel the moment
Walking with his own ghost
committing little crimes
to be able to forget the time
Over there
in the land of the seals
on that shore in love
where the raft of Odisseus hit the land
At the morning hour when Naufsika washed him
and scrubbed with oils
At the thrill of the star perched on the heart
At the oblivion of a long-lasting love making
the woman thought she could cure the man
The man happened to be broken down
Actually, the woman had the same condition
the hunchbacked witch
who talked with the cats and wild boars
happened to know the reality
The witch continued cursing by the window
while the man and woman made love
while the flowers were trembling in the garden
They dived to the depths with sweet kisses
swam in the lakes of the heart
licked the wounds of the soul
The woman let herself
to the strong flow of the river
but the man strolled the graveyards
The man departed the fairy tale one day
Took his skeleton out of the well
The woman found dead cats at the adjacent room
Stayed frozen with a withered rose in hand
Poison Apple
Once I didn’t then I did exist
loneliness was my cradle
forgotten in the wind
Pearls ornamented my coverlet
evil-eye beads
frozen in stone gazed at me
When my mother loosed me from her hand
the birds lent me wings
the trees a nest
It was night
leaf on leaf the forest wept
wolves gave me their breasts
I had a step-god
He would not hear what I said
When I bit into the poison apple
my mother and my love deserted me
I was a branch crying in the frost
water drinking solitude
the voice of leaves rustling
My lover did or didn’t exist
his name was the wind, his memory a fish
if I cried he did not cry
if I explained he did not understand
When I spoke I could not recognize
my voiceless voice
still one day I solved
the riddle of my wounded soul
O secret museum of my heart, open
a little girl is hiding inside
every heartbroken woman’s voice
The fate of a love lost
is registered on Its bleeding country
Time is a storm that comes to rest
on broken branches
speaking deliriously of ruin
(Translated by Clifford Endres)
the strings of night
streams find their way
through narrow crevasses
falling stars twinkle in our eyes
the rose falling into night
as if reuniting
with a childhood garden
we whirl
two angels
in an embrace with clouds
you, the city’s thief of hearts
as if we were born
on the first morning of the world
rivers have flowed to our bed.
would moan in the soul of the night
Walking with his own ghost
committing little crimes
to be able to forget the time
in the land of the seals
on that shore in love
where the raft of Odisseus hit the land
At the morning hour when Naufsika washed him
and scrubbed with oils
At the thrill of the star perched on the heart
At the oblivion of a long-lasting love making
the woman thought she could cure the man
Actually, the woman had the same condition
the hunchbacked witch
who talked with the cats and wild boars
happened to know the reality
while the man and woman made love
while the flowers were trembling in the garden
swam in the lakes of the heart
licked the wounds of the soul
to the strong flow of the river
but the man strolled the graveyards
Took his skeleton out of the well
The woman found dead cats at the adjacent room
Stayed frozen with a withered rose in hand
loneliness was my cradle
forgotten in the wind
evil-eye beads
frozen in stone gazed at me
the birds lent me wings
the trees a nest
leaf on leaf the forest wept
wolves gave me their breasts
He would not hear what I said
my mother and my love deserted me
I was a branch crying in the frost
water drinking solitude
the voice of leaves rustling
his name was the wind, his memory a fish
if I cried he did not cry
if I explained he did not understand
my voiceless voice
still one day I solved
the riddle of my wounded soul
a little girl is hiding inside
every heartbroken woman’s voice
The fate of a love lost
is registered on Its bleeding country
on broken branches
speaking deliriously of ruin