Black Tulip

The train stunk from chil­dren urine, the wet obso­lete clothes
the old men tang – “what kind of ring­ing was that?”. Nobody do not know
why this expul­sion now, the time that every­thing has finished
and men pos­si­ble could be iden­ti­fied as humans,
before eye­balls get into their sock­ets again, why this naming
to a ges­ture that pass under cur­rent­ly not deceit but deception
“Accept, tak­ing  this black tulip the seeds of all scenarios,
the bloom­ing of a lim­it­ed part of an ema­ci­at­ed future»
when pos­ter­i­ty will share the guilti­ness of ide­al­is­tic stu­pid­i­ty with mate­ri­al­is­tic strategems
“Each Ger­man has the right to car­ry one suit­case up to 50 kilos and 100 guilders”
I am not descen­dant of no par­tic­u­lar prac­tice beside some incom­plete premises
“ The lack of humor was the root of this total­i­tar­i­an regime”
The les­son lays as a con­sign­ment, in every day exchange,
in the pon­toon mar­ket of canal Sin­gel, next to thou­sand col­or­ful bulbs
there on the stalls are being delin­eat­ed the sym­bols of love and shame
“Keep warm next to your pil­low the possibility
But at the same time keep tak­ing away the with­ered peels and insipid lan­guage games
Replace nouns with verbs, instead of anoth­er “impa­tience” “I’m wait­ing for you”
And as much exact as can be like “I’m think­ing of you” not “I’m dream­ing you”
For time is not mere­ly lim­it­ed but linguistic
and in this lan­guage I’m not ready yet”
On Sep­tem­ber the 15th, 1946, at 3 a.m. right in the mid­dle of a bright light
orders reflect­ed the prop­er­ties of crystal
With­in one hour all the ene­mies of the nation, accord­ing to the Black Tulip plan
should be ready under the thresh­old of their homes
Lor­ries would dri­ve them in con­cen­tra­tion points and in cen­tral platform
In the same quar­ter a lit­tle far away at n. 19 of a no name street there was an inscription
          Vita homin­is sim­ilis navigante
Oth­er­wise, some­one thought inversed that aforism
          People’s trips look like life
Obvi­ous­ly, it didn’t always hap­pened like this
Once, this as Tulip noir worthed 100.000 guil­ters ( !7th c.Harlem, Holland)
It would have been up to some­one like Witt mak­ing it flour­ish in his land
And a Rosa set him tram­mel his chains
« While there is no depth get into this sur­face and deci­pher it
There is left no patience to cul­ti­vate that tulip in my garden
There is noth­ing left but its sym­bol­ism that bears and that one I deliv­er it to you.”