Hands — in the dips
Of all resold, repledged, repossessed!
It’s just the lips,
The hands I mustn’t confuse with the rest!
All those vain
Petty things that steal me from sanity.
Hands to heaven,
Friend, here I plead to my own memory!
My poetry
(The dumping ground of my Highnesses!)
Is not to see
You wilt like every other guy once has.
My breast is deep
(Being a thousand-breast-wide mass
Grave!) – May it keep
You clear of rain as the millennia pass…
Midst bodies, may
You — my damnation two-starry-eyed! —
Never decay,
Tagged: unidentified.
Руки — и в круг
Перепродаж и переуступок!
Только бы губ,
Только бы рук мне не перепутать!
Этих вот всех
Суетностей, от которых сна нет.
Руки воздев
Друг, заклинаю свою же память!
Чтобы в стихах
(Свалочной яме моих Высочеств!)
Ты не зачах,
Ты не усох наподобье прочих.
Чтобы в груди
(В тысячегрудой моей могиле
Братской!) — дожди
Тысячелетий тебя не мыли...
Тело меж тел,
— Ты, что мне пропадом был двухзвёздным!..
Чтоб не истлел
С надписью: не опознан.
«Rebellion of machines / / Escape — to yourself, to republic of Haiti, to churches, to toilets, / to Egypt — / Escape! / / The heap...»
«With every passing day it is becoming harder / To find the things I lived with when a child so well. / Where are the "lightening" lamps? Where is black powder? / Where is black water from the bottom of the well? Where is "Isle of Dead" in decadency framing? / Where are the photographs of mo...»
«There he comes up to soda water booth / As if it were a real clockwork toy, / An arrogant sophisticated boy, / A favourite of slot machines, like youth. / / Then, the conceited fantasist first-class, / Inserts a coin into the slot, and putting / His cheek to tender splashes softly sh...»
«It's thirteen now! Quite recently / We welcomed greeting it with love. / At thirteen, wilfully and boldly / It showed its nature well enough. / / Again, your day of birth is coming... / You vicious naughty boy! For once / Do not expect either good wishes / Or great festivities from ...»