Green beggar
In the corner of my room
lives a beggar with golden hands,
provident in his silence
and unseeable to the eye of fortune.
My beggar does not steal
my time
nor plait his fingers
among my thoughts.
He comes in the time of winter
and plants starved stones
into my hollow-eyed heart,
eats my darkness
and mad mind of mine.
My beggar whispers
the name of the One
to northern winds
breastfeded with black milk
and bitter emerald herbs.
Together, we sit by the muddy lake
and together, we beg.
Our bowl is hollow
and filled with marrow of the world.
Sometimes we pray
to howling gods
and are answered with corpses
dug out from gods’ cradles
and november graves.
Sometimes
he sees his decaying child
and I see long dead mountain of mine.
We see.
Passing clouds and thorned up skies.
My beggar counts eternity
in rain of dying leaves,
offering himself for one more hour.
Then, I become a frozen skeleton
with green sun for a skull.
Poslano:
25. 03. 2019 ob 12:03
Spremenjeno:
25. 03. 2019 ob 13:06
Depths, great ones, bringing stones, describing steps, silence saying everything what is beyond to be in front.
Prelijepo, čudesno!
Pozdrav veliki frende.
Ja bih ovo poslao Nick Caveu da uglazbi.
Uau, super. Breastfeed... brestfed (not brestfeded)
Branka Umetnija
Ki jo zmore napisati
Samo velika umetnica.
In ja zeleno sonce...
Lepi dan ti zelim Irena
Čudoviti metulj, hvala!
Lean, Gregor, hvala!
Irena, prijateljice moja, hvala ti za svaku riječ potpore!
urednica
Poslano:
31. 03. 2019 ob 19:52
Spremenjeno:
31. 03. 2019 ob 19:54
Zdi se kot notranji zaščitnik, ta prosjak, ki skupaj z nosilko telesa blodi skozi pokrajine mrtvakov, dokler se še sama popolnoma ne prelevi vanj(e) ... mračnjaška pesem, čestitke,
Ana
Čestitam ti frende.
Pozdrav na more.
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- 25. 03. 2019 ob 11:50
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