My bag breaks
and everything falls to the floor.
It occurs to me
the world is a grin that flickers
on a hanged man's face.
Из мешка
На пол рассыпались вещи.
И я думаю,
Что мир —
Только усмешка,
Что теплится
На устах повешенного.
«I opened my veins. Unstoppably / life spurts out with no remedy. / Now I set out bowls and plates. / Every bowl will be shallow. / Every plate will be small. / And overflowing their rims, / into the black earth, to nourish / the rushes unstoppably / without...»
«I’ve cut open my veins: irrevocably, / Irreplaceably gushes life. / Bring forth dishes and bowls! / Any bowl will prove too small / Any dish — too shallow. / Filling up and overly / Feeding reeds, through the earth rushing. / Inconceivably, irrevocably, / Irreplaceably, verse is ...»
«I died. The sycamores gave shade; / shutters were shut upon the dust / of the hot streets steamily teased / by the torrid Aeolus. / / I slowly walked, and the fauns walked; / It seemed as though I recognised / the great god Pan in every faun. / Good. I must be in Paradise. / / ...»
«I died. The sycamores and shutters / along the dusty street were teased / by torrid Aeolus. I walked, / and fauns walked, and in every faun / god Pan I seemed to recognize: / Good. I must be in Paradise. Shielding her face and to the sparkling sun /...»