Резултати претраге

The Luminous (letter to my son)

The road will be grand,
Luminous, and fantastic
Every second, everything begins
Always at birth, one exists
There will be long walls
Which stand out along your way
With walls and faults*
One does not make houses
 
There will be elegance
With which you will love
Stormily without moderation
Because tomorrow will not wait
For you I only want the sublime
Funambulistic beauty
For you I only hope for the summit
And the wings for aspiring
 
And well, whoever dares
He will never live slowly
And fear is ankylosis
The void is so wonderful
 

Flying machines

After dusk, the old lady from the fifth1 floor
is smoking cigarettes on her ebony balcony.
Ten square meters, that her accute agoraphobia
barely stood for years.
 
And from up there, she beholds
secretly the life
of the opposite lovers.
 
She dreams up a parallel life.
Smiling, eyes stuck to a pair of binoculars
while she doesn't even know their names.
She prefers their cross-buildings relations
to remain anonymous
 
And the years go by and the peeping tom gets worried.
No more shadow puppets, no more mist on the windows.
In their room, the lovers turned into sleepwalkers.
The wild sleepless nights are a thing of the past.
 
It's the lovers' demise,
now they sleep in separate rooms
and the Richter scale has flatlined,
under a common roof of parallel solitudes.
In anonymity, a dream of something grandiose and sensual.
 
Now tonight, planes are on their way2
The neighbour's counterpane is their air terminal.
Secret dates folded in paper,
poems only Jardin3 would write.
 
' Tomorrow at midnight sharp, on the roof,
I'll wait you there. Signed: anonymous '
After dusk, in their Sunday's best,
the lovers meet, oblivious to the trick.
 
On a skyscaper's roof, you can see the light
of their engagement, like under the sun.
The watercoloured4 night carries their reunion,
and the old lady smiles,
eyes stuck to her binoculars.
 

• 1. or 6th on the other side of the pond
• 2. lit. 'planes have the trajectory'. The sentence is sightly broken, and 'trajectory of' would mean the paper planes follow the trajectory of the counterpane, which is hardly likely to fly across the street!
• 3. . A novelist and political activist, advocating direct citizen actions for the greater good. His most famous novel (le zèbre) is about a man who comes up with surreal ideas to try and rekindle the flame of his jaded couple.
  Very fitting for this salvage operation :).
• 4. that's an invented word

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