NON PLUS ULTRA
Non plus ultra — beyond the furthest limit.
Morning is deeper
and colder
after a sleepless night.
In Venice
there is no cult of personality,
no fathers of the fatherland —
only uninterrupted solitude.
Prophecy.
Paganism.
Priesthood.
Here, space reigns.
Here, time
violates us all.
Stone, unlike trees,
is honest.
The landscape — absurd.
To walk the worn narrow streets
where Joseph Brodsky once walked.
To sit on a bench
watching the clucking pigeons
on the “Square of the Incurable.”
One day we will find ourselves
knee-deep in our own conformity
if we fail to understand
that carrying the burden
means only this:
Take it easy.
Don’t be shy.
Don’t pretend to be innocent.
Surrender to time.
Take pleasure
from the one who will seize you roughly
and fling you
into the milky morning —
beyond the Pillars of Hercules,
into the non plus ultra,
beyond insomnia.
Non plus ultra. англ
© Copyright: Гурам Кикабидзе, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126021500616
Свидетельство о публикации №126021500616
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