Next morning I
will scatter
a black bead
on the floor of your silence.
I will
swing rays
desperately.
I am a morning cup of coffee
with a roll
to your bed
which I know by heart.
From lips to lips
will pass
som slowly
the big secret
of our little habits.
Once all of us «were»
without quotation marks.
I am a friend, -
well,
I am a fool,
that so!
YOUR NAME IS DRUG.
Here to me
in it seemed to the delirium
that as before
I take
your face in a palm,
and you do not wince,
though fingers smell a tobacco.
I wake up now
and smoke again:
in place of you -
a city dreamed
on a lake,
that in the Illinois.
Do not I know, -
did Noah drink
from a melancholy?
But I do not drink
in the ark,
and not remember -
who I. That I for you, –
alas, nothing, nobody, -
perchance, Someone?
As a rain autumn
will scatter a black bead
on the floor
of your silence.
I will
swing rays
desperately....
Desperately...
© Copyright: Миклош Шадор, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113100105527
Свидетельство о публикации №113100105527
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