> A Belgrader visits Dresden

A Belgrader visits Dresden

Par |2019-02-17T01:03:40+00:00 12 avril 2013|Catégories : Blog|


These are the cities of splen­dour and ruin
where he got cru­shed in a moment
by hea­vy his­to­ry set­tled in eve­ry cob­bles­tone
of a see­min­gly unim­por­tant alley
as he was trying under the sun’s hell
to memo­rize all the fuss of many a bat­tle
lis­ted by the skilled guide
during which all the haugh­ty wil­helms, johans and frie­drichs
in the name of faith
aris­to­cra­tic honour
(and this same star was scor­ching also then
with the same indif­fe­rence
this beau­ti­ful old den)
moun­ted their gra­cious studs
and star­ted conque­ring about wild­ly
and buil­ding
(while the ring of cata­combs was swel­ling
like a hard riddle around that humble town)
the pearl on the Elbe
with gol­den angels on the domes’ tops
who stretch their hands in the sun­set
and hover above the city as the silent shim­mer dwindles
(or is it mere­ly drum­ming in his eyes
cru­shed by so much beau­ty?)
just as if the skies never vomi­ted here
and people and stone were not sizz­ling
their dust mixing in the same mash
as the Elbe was flo­wing
as lazy as the Danube
and swel­ling occa­sio­nal­ly with anger
when nobo­dy expec­ted
plain­ly unca­ring for the some city
raped ravin­gly first and last
in the cra­ter of Europe
in the brave last cen­tu­ry
in all dif­ferent anno domi­nis…

…but look at a Saxon beau­ty pas­sing
swaying her hips across the square
(which can be e.g. also the one in Belgrade)
never giving a damn for the gloo­my proud hor­se­men
blind for the glo­ry of the ope­ra
the gla­mour of the aca­de­my
whist­ling at the saints on the facades
tram­pling care­less­ly on the ancient street
and onto this sti­cky after­noon
giving a toss for a thou­sand years
of blood and glo­ry
as she goes off to splash around
with her gor­geous legs in the palace foun­tain
when all the gory epics of uni­verse
is com­pen­sa­ted sud­den­ly
by a cer­tain sense.