TEXT 6 Z 14
MYLKA
Slunecnik: Dear Little Angel, thank you for
all the messages, I couldn't reply to you
right away. As you guessed, I had some
work to do.
No! You are the Parasol – I don't know how I could
Have blasphemed like this – perhaps your eyelashes blinded me,
When you kissed me with words that overpowered me,
As if thrusting me upon glowing knives.
But they were ordinary clouds, wisps
That playfully roll across your blue
Robe, which know no experienced connoisseur
Who cannot bid the daylight color farewell.
So they roll, knead themselves, and surely have no idea,
That they clouded my vision, what is more, my feet
Frozen so that the fingers on my hands like fly wings
grew stiff and now have a talent for flight.
I merely laid them in my lap,
They blinked their little eyes, wriggled their little body
And playfully like spa springs
Vanished behind the clouds – behind the Sun.
At least there's that! I can touch you
Without you, and I know you never wanted it that way
He didn't think, he scorched my clothes, the gaze.
Yet it matters not – though my light is gentle
And eyes struggle to map the earth beneath me,
So the night adorns the stars – little holes
That call themselves my very own children.
When I tell them about You – they are all moved.
And now good night, I am leaving.
But fear not – I will come again
As soon as Night crashes back into the sky,
Here I am – and you have me all to yourself!
Mesicnik: The fact that your hand
is restless, I know that too. Sometimes it has me
lust for ten and that is when I lose
my mind and instincts take over.
Mesicnik: Then most of all I value the one
who keeps me in check. It is true that
ale Marina je jiz v boji s pudy
vycvicena 🙂
