Untitled
*
The earth is burning
But the fibre of laughter
is indissoluble
*
Six charred leaves drift
fools down the road
touching their damp roots
to the acrid warm earth
Sick barred leaves
drink transparent water
so that temples of fallen stems
can be raised up as a crown
*
Along the threads of veins
run mice
Along the spines of songs
crawl groans
*
I sit over grief
I warm myself . . .
I sit over grief
I chop into a log
I sit I say nothing over grief
while it seethes
Translated by Gerald Janecek
Page(s) 147
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