poem to shout in the ruins
 

* let's spit the two of us let's spit

on what we loved

on what we loved the two of us

yes because this poem the two of us

is a waltz tune and i imagine

what is dark and incomparable passing between us

like a dialogue of mirrors abandoned

in a baggage-claim somewhere say foligno

or bourboule in the auvergne

certain names are charged with a distant thunder

yes let's spit the two of us on these immense landscapes

where little rented cars cruise by

yes because something must still

some thing

reconcile us yes let's spit

the two of us it's a waltz

a kinf of convenient sob

let's spit let's spit tiny automobiles

let's spit that's an order

a waltz of mirrors

a dialogue in the void

listen to these immense landscapes where the wind

cries over what we loved

one of them is a horse leaning its elbow on the earth

the other a deadman shaking out linen the other

the trail of your footprints i remember a deserted village

on the shoulder of a scorched mountain

i remember your shoulder

i remember your elbow your linen your footprints

i remember a town where there was no horse

i remember your look which scorched

my deserted heart a dead mazeppa whom a horse

carries away like that day on the mountain

drunkenness sped my run through the martyred oaks

which bled prophetically while day

light fell mute over the blue trucks

i remember so many things

so many evenings rooms walks rages

so many stops in worthless places

where in spite of everything the spirit of mystery rose up

like the cry of a blind child in a remote train depot



aragon

Kaynak: EkşiSözlük