agonia english v3 |
Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission | Contact | Participate | ||||
Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special | ||||||
|
||||||
agonia Recommended Reading
■ No risks
Romanian Spell-Checker Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2009-08-17 | |
Reversed reality
so much running makes horses whisper to one another counting the whip lashes broken shields helmets covering inherited wounds arrowed elephants swords tempered in the damask of faith I’m leaving the fortress alive wrapped in a green flag the ground cracks like a cork sole looks like a green melon seeds in the sky I ask my footsteps where they’re taking me I pass my hand over the tips of the blood signs spin them till it starts pumping to the teeth of the waterfalls ropes take orange elephants from the mountains canopies to the sky maids are deflowered one by one pulled by a net with locks of chastity broken hard roes iron segments hit buffaloes in the waves the sleeping shovel the clay out of the pillow the light goes off in the chest of the awaited prayers on knees the interior doesn’t embody anything everything is a reality given up by others it throws you in the middle of the street on the lane of the bugs knocked over gondolas passengers with mess tins of burnt clay. Translated by Petru Iamandi
|
||||||||
Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. | |||||||||
Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privacy and publication policy