A Stranger Woman; In the Wind

A Stranger Woman

I have offered you

Sweet water –

And I am thirsty.

I have given you

A knife of dew –

And I am unarmed.

And you have my heart.

Who will give back

 At least the thread of blood?

 

In the Wind

 

Wrapped up in windy hair.

You know, to feel cold rain on my face

And your love.

A voiceless wind, dead water.

We are wordless. My hands

Numb, in front of you.

* * *

We haven’t become closer,

And we’re too tired now:

A sparkling untouching. We have inhaled

A bitter poison.

If we didn’t want so much,

It wouldn’t hurt any more.

* * *

Morning bus,

Ticket in my left hand:

Like a wolf.

It is going very fast.

Bus, a vessel for our bodies,

Tired, not fruit,

But letters.

Who is sending us?

And how many hands exchange us, untouched

And then, you lay me down,

unread,

on glowing

ashes.

* * *

Not alone, and yet lonely.

Not sad, yet without happiness.

Undeserted, yet on the margin.  

Not mine, yet unpossessed by others.

Not close. Within reach, and yet…

Not refused, only unwelcome.

Rootless and without wings.

Neither convicted, nor acquitted.

Not shoved aside. Unsupported.

Neither ignorant, nor beloved.

Unhurt, I’m pulling down my violet shirts.   

Unblind, I’m unable to recognize you.

Not ill, I am dying on you.

* * *

I will neither forget you

Like a glove, honey-rose

And poem, nor will I protect you.

You are inside of me like a poison in an apple,

Like a prolonged fire.   

Translated by Ľuben Urbánek