Darkness and mould
«ἔδωκαν αὐτῷ πιεῖν ὄξος μετὰ χολῆς μεμιγμένον
καὶ γευσάμενος οὐκ ἤθελεν πιεῖν» – Ματθ. 27:34
In the mass grave of dreams, my yet alive lips
Taste mould and vinegar at the treat of defeat.
Feasting fragmented remains of a bygone life,
The unfulfilled cravings, and the darkness of night.
Whatever has been booked in those volumes around me,
The flight has never reached its imaginary destiny.
And whatever else has not been, there is no return of the fee,
So I search how to unfreeze this, what still has a chance to be.
As for the river I’ve cried in despair at this wall of the books of the dead,
Let it reach the other side, let it bring seeds to spring, if any of them are left.
As for the irreversible time arrow, painful to be known by it,
Let it keep me aware of the shadows that every light has to bring.
(21.III.19 (春分の日), ul. Książąt Pomorskich 5/7/13, Sopot)