Par |2019-02-17T01:29:49+00:00 25 septembre 2012|Catégories : Blog|


How long will I tra­vel through this body,
how many more white and how many blue des­ti­nies will I under­go,
how many ban­dages, how much gauze,
how much of the ste­rile God ?
How much lon­ger will I go on being wrap­ped
in shells, in com­pas­sion ?
My soul yearns to lift like fog,
but cor­ri­dors have memo­ry,
under glass
they have seen me
and are now trans­for­ming me
into the nor­thern lights, into crys­tal, into health.
No, nothing ana­to­mi­cal, nothing per­so­nal
– I do not need a name in hea­ven –
I wan­ted some­thing large, some­thing clas­si­cal,
I wan­ted plaques, I wan­ted ele­phants, I wan­ted ostriches without limit.

The spi­rit is lea­ving the mir­ror.
At the bot­tom of my blood sphin­xes await me.
The sur­roun­ding mois­ture offers its ego to me.
The mind comes from the sea,
as damp as mad­ness.
At the bot­tom of the mind eyes await me
and onyx sight.
Beyond the dark mad­ness begins.
Madness ? From how many minds,
from how much ice, from how much fire,
from how many seas, from whose skin ?


[trans­la­ted from ser­bian to english by her­self]