Szivárvány, 1995 (16. évfolyam, 45-46. szám)
1995 / 45. szám
[I’m with my most supple poems now when you don’t love me with affection...] I’m with my most supple poems now when you don’t love me with affection When I stand an armlengthfrom your breath in this perpetual snowfall With my black hat on I’m a scarecrow My soul in tatters I imagine a marble rainbow over our lean bed Certain tastes in our mouths Each other’s unperishable scent Even the snowmen will arrive They will peer into our third-floor window with their coal eyes The forest peers throough our willowy window Is it also the cemetery? Over our hearts avant-guard poems stand at attention these hopelessly free and grand creatures An armlength from your breath I’d disown the dragonflies beating in my head and I’d trudge toward you in this lyrical thicksweet snowfall with an aching head With eyelids puffed from cherry brandy The snowwomen will come They cany me into a deep-white landscape They snatch me away from you into muted love You didn’t guard me well -You let masked scoundrels surround me Lord lift their shadows out of my dreams You are by not being anymore You’ll be as if you'd never existed I'm treading toward you in a man-deep snowfall it’s possible that T ll die an armlength from your breath [by Nicholas Kolumban] 63
