No need for talk:
my lips are for you to
drink from,
the thick of my hair
hangs heavy for you to
stroke. Please.
And my hands.
For you to kiss.
Or let me
go down into
black sleep.
Со мной не надо говорить,
Вот губы: дайте пить.
Вот волосы мои: погладь.
Вот руки: можно целовать.
— А лучше дайте спать.
«Old pails and tubs all over / The place; from the onset / The day is wet and awkward, / It drizzles at sunset, / / And gulping down tears / The darkness gives a sigh, / At miles away one hears / Steam train's lonesome cry, / / An early dusk comes dow...»
«My trees, it's for your stunning eyes, / Because of your amazing presence / That, for the very first of times, / I live on Earth and see your essence. / / I often think: perhaps, the Lord, / When looking for the color, found / And took it from inside my heart / And dipped His brush ...»
«In every thing I want to grasp / Its very core. / In work, in searching for the path, / In heart's uproar. / / To see the essence of my days, / In every minute / To see its cause, its root, its base, / Its sacred meaning. /...»
«In everything, I want to reach / For the very essence. / In work, in searching for the path, / In the heart's turmoil. For the essence of days gone by, / For their causes, / For foundations, for roots, / For the core. I want to live, to think, to feel, to love, / To make discoveries ...»