Makovice                                                        Poppyheads

Zbieram hrkálky.                                           I collect toy-rattles.

Dozreté na poli.                                            Riped on the field.

V každej sa prevaľujú                                 In everyone are rolling                         

Šumiace predstavy.                                     Fizzing visions.

Drobné.                                                            Tiny.

Čierne.                                                              Black.

Vysnívané.                                                      Dreamed.

Preskočím záhrady                                      I will jump over the gardens

a ploty, v sebe.                                              and over the fences, inside me.

Hrniem sa štvornožky.                               I rush on the knees.

Nečakám.                                                        Not waiting.

Kým dážď potetuje                                     Till rain tatoos

ich holé temená.                                          their naked heads.

Stojím na lúke.                                              I stand on the meadow.

Plnej divých makov.                                    Full of wild poppies.

Húpa ich vietor.                                            Seesawed by the wind.

A makovice spievajú                                  And poppyheads sing

Svoj dozrievajúci song.                             their maturing song.

A ja chcem byť jednou z nich.                 And I want to be one of them.

Regina