From Twin to Twin

Well, you think you're ready.
Do you think you're ready to love me?

I'll tear out old trees by their roots –
and plant whole new linden avenues
beneath triumphal arches.

I'll take the words out of context
and choose the ones
that sound best –
words of love from all over the world – in your honor.
Because you are the only one for me, the most honest

like the piercing cry of a trumpet
combing the hair of mirages above a hot street,
somewhere in the rhythm of samba,
twisting in figures of eight
like a sneaky snake, green mamba.

I'll paint passion, and transform it
into the travel fever of morning trains,
honking like a bluesy, endless echo
that never arrives –
living its lonely meditation
in all the bar chairs
that exist upside down,
one sad ever smiling little clown,
my dearest – phoenix who keeps burning,
a moment before rebirth, featherless.

That’s why I’ll paint for you tenderness
like a scoop of vanilla ice cream,
like a bandage and a band-aid,
a temporary substitute dream.

That’s why I’ll paint tenderness
on every leaf of those linden trees –
no sadness, no goodbyes, please –
just pink love letters from evergreen trees,
like postcards addressed to koalas.

No, they’re not extinct yet.
They’re locked in impregnable Valhallas.
Just locked in cages.
Really – not extinct yet.
In Czech, we’d say about Valhalla ...
                I mean for all ages...
which still exist,  not extinct yet...
it is the order of the world – simply SVET /svjet/.

And me?

I will silence that song.
And I’ll stay awake
in the silence and majesty of the mountain ranges.
I’ll guard the purity of all springs,
and the secrets of the wells
that people go to
for water in the moonlit landscape,
with small steps – small changes.

And I’ll have herbs in stock for every misfortune.
They will never cross the threshold of our house.
No black magic, no witches, no spiders, no mouse.
I’ll shout my voice into the frosty nights
when you forget to dream.

And I will defeat even death
with this very uncomfortable scream.
I will beg time to be with you.

And I will.
And I will not stop being.
I will do.

Because in my heart, Aretha Franklin prays,
and Ozzy Osbourne sings her second voice –
about how those who stop believing and dreaming
do not love.
I don't have a second choice.

Whoever stops believing
dissolves in other people's dreams.
Dissolves in truths that do not love.

Dream, love, rejoice, and believe!

Everything else is just love.
Everything around you is love.
Everything around is love.
Everything around me is love.
You are love.

This is what I feel when I close my eyes.
This is what I see – when I look at you, without lies.
This is what I wanted – to give the win
on blue and blue, from twin to twin.