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Three Poems "even while sleeping you have to think" this is how he made his fortune he used her to unravel her thoughts in the middle of the night he awakened her then fell asleep abruptly she kept one eye open until daybreak "that which is essential is divulged to he who exaggerates" he said that at dawn he realized the beauty of the situation he opened the window and said "it is a landscape those are morsels of color" it was she who sewed our shirts sometimes one sleeve was longer than the other what I owed them and all I had lost spread out my territory these are all those who gave me life it is my long procession of debts obviously it is not him nor her who counts but what happens between them when they are drawn together does one without the other have any interest? we were all under the impression that they knew did they know to fancy each otherlet's not try any longer to find a solution he died she is dead it is stronger in the feminine we left again amongst the trees we saw dark profiles we heard cries they lit the headlights the night was green already a little bit festive the world was at my feet the city was a truly beautiful night cut off by the black wing of the plane below us a void blue pools pink swimmers and gardens illuminated other planes climbed the slope of the sky blinking this man has to be taken from a side angle he needs to believe that it comes from him here it is a country of emigrants where there are no natives the city is frontal it watches the sea and the distant continent yes they treat it off-handedly their new language they push it around its vowels are drawn out its consonants stampled it's ingested it has seen a lot in order for it to cry with them in the ferry no one listens to the instructions in the event of sinking then later we take the bus through the countryside I'm here darling I'll be staying the night we'll go and hide on the battle field with the deserters how dark they seem lying on the white snow ready to shoot fortunately there is a red star no I'm telling you very few people want victory have you pictured what will happen after the murder when they will come into the room? have you pictured what will happen? those screams the flight into the hall and coming back you can't believe your eyes in front of that hole that won't close what is it that enables you to forget while not losing your memory? you draw the line and yet there is still a consequence the distance covered is never the same no one dared to say it out loud we were afraid he hid in the forest until the end there where "night falls like a tree" he said to them "don't die come back alive" so here I am winters are very cold but spring is always splendid he thought that was too realistic he wants the fabric on the shelf fabric by the yard without all those little darts around the bust or even overflowing on the floor he wants the fabric without the body but who could get rid of it? it always comes back and is the primary word less tangible than a locomotive? less tangible than this body lying in front of the doorway? and are all the others any less than a national house of representatives? |
| translated by Sharon Kanach | |
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