duminică, 3 ianuarie 2016

longing for the birches

I inhabit a lagoon with a yellowish haze on the forehead
a candle attached to the ear lobe
the sun misbehaving what does it care
the grains of sand ticking away
tide-driven shirts struggling hopelessly amidst the algae
when it rains
when god wills it to rain
I strain my fancy
turning my eyebrows into roof tiles
sitting on the porch of a breasted house
in whose garden a young woman multiplied by the thousands
is driving her fingers through her hair
I am a photographer when no carcass presents itself
resting my camera on a rock
fish and oyster filing through the shutter
I blindfold myself – a careless mechanical gesture –
I strain my fancy once more
taking a snapshot of my schoolmates
I advise them not to wander apart let them all be in the frame even as a heap
they hop on trains and wander away
sunsets light up the umbrellas
I ride my bike frantically almost to the brink of flight
the sweat takes a ride along my body but she
her ignoble self
is not on my side to contemplate together our flesh-coated spikes
with butterflies on our ring fingers
I inhabit a lagoon
in fact
I take her for a ride connected as she is by chains to a certain ankle

Translated by Adriana Bulz 

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