A Stranger Woman
I have offered you
Sweet water –
And I am thirsty.
I have given you
A knife of dew –
And I am unarmed.
And you have my heart.
Who will give back
ÌýAt least the thread of blood?
Ìý
In the Wind
Ìý
Wrapped up in windy hair.
You know, to feel cold rain on my face
And your love.
A voiceless wind, dead water.
We are wordless. My hands
Numb, in front of you.
* * *
We haven’t become closer,
And we’re too tired now:
A sparkling untouching. We have inhaled
A bitter poison.
If we didn’t want so much,
It wouldn’t hurt any more.
* * *
Morning bus,
Ticket in my left hand:
Like a wolf.
It is going very fast.
Bus, a vessel for our bodies,
Tired, not fruit,
But letters.
Who is sending us?
And how many hands exchange us, untouched
And then, you lay me down,
unread,
on glowing
ashes.
* * *
Not alone, and yet lonely.
Not sad, yet without happiness.
Undeserted, yet on the margin.ÌýÌý
Not mine, yet unpossessed by others.
Not close. Within reach, and yet…
Not refused, only unwelcome.
Rootless and without wings.
Neither convicted, nor acquitted.
Not shoved aside. Unsupported.
Neither ignorant, nor beloved.
Unhurt, I’m pulling down my violet shirts.ÌýÌýÌý
Unblind, I’m unable to recognize you.
Not ill, I am dying on you.
* * *
I will neither forget you
Like a glove, honey-rose
And poem, nor will I protect you.
You are inside of me like a poison in an apple,
Like a prolonged fire. ÌýÌý
Translated by Ľuben Urbánek