2023.07.17.
A keresés eredménye
Találatok száma: 6
2020.06.03.
Time
I close my eyesAnd listen,
How the drops of eternity fall down.
And everything around gets drenched
Under the rain of time.
Someone’s else feelings, and fears,
And joys, -
Everything is washed away
By the approaching future.
I close my eyes
And listen
To the thoughts, the images, and the moods,
That no one will ever tell anyone about.
M-m-m, I am spinning around the room
To the song of the light.
It is the eternal melody,
The eternal story at the edge of misunderstanding and detachment.
And I am reaching my arms to the sky,
Knowing already,
That even if I yell,
No one will answer...
And again the rain from the eternity is falling down
On the eyelids and the mouths
Of the supplicants,
The liars and the saints.
...The gray stone turns to ashes
Under the weight of the centuries.
The soul ascends to the clear skies, -
Day after day, year after year, century after century.
I hear their voices
Under the golden dome of the cathedral beyond time.
Barely discernible whisper,
Their endlessly sounding hum...
But what’s left to me is to dream, -
How to feel
The dance of life
On my deadened fingertips again.
2020.06.02.
The crimson ribbon of the sunset
And the breathing is seized byThe crimson ribbon of the sunset,
Misty star rivers spread out under our feet.
The stormy clouds resined with the diminishing day,
Got covered with farewell shining of quartz,
I wave my hand at them from the bus.
The sky will fall again on my shoulders like a down comforter,
Lighter than the most lightest,
The softness and the feathers
Of the fare-away home...
Something got omitted
And not listened to well enough
In the walls, the hues of the blue sea-sky,
In the whispering of the grasses,
—
I will barely touch it with my hand, and it will disappear
With the sincere surprise, a rustling in the wind,
The telephone cable in the hand —
The prop.
The dreams,
Not fitting within the black frames of the questions,
Smack of the stale silence of the autumn,
Settled down on the flights of the dusky stairs,
Parted with time.
I am catching webs of the light on my fingertips,
Insecurity,
Piercing liveliness
Is flying by in the misty shine -
To where and to whom?...
The shadows paint fragility of the translucent stone on the eyelids,
Spread out like a stream over the forehead and cheeks,
Got absorbed through the lips into the soul...
Wilted feelings
weave into the swirl
Of the bluish atmosphere,
The light is fading out inside the disjointed thoughts,
Heels - red light -
Apple trees -
People,
Edges of the pavements, crumbling sides of the curbs,
The pale greenery of the trees got disturbed
And disappeared in the embrace of
The silken night.
And the bridges, sketched by someone’s hand,
Dulled away under
The fallen day,
The starts are shooting out of the chest - in bursts,
Hissing as they fizzle down to the bottom,
So loudly -
Impatiently,
Blending with the steps over the dark, flooded with water
Streets. It’s oppressive...
The lights came on and went out again,
The echo of the footprints is agitated,
The blue skies above and below circling languidly like an endlessly falling leaf,
Washing the tired heart over with the coolness,
It is still far to go, right?
I will sit down with the clouds on the ground like a fog,
Will embrace the emptied out streets.
2019.03.26.
The wind has captured my soul...
The wind blowing holesIn my transparent fingers.
Time sprinkle sand
On my open wounds.
How much more
I have to wait for you?
Black wings of the birds
Flashing by, disappearing
Even further, higher, longer, louder...
Whirlwind of mixed feelings
Captured my soul.
Line after line flowing down
On the ginger red floor boards.
Ink letters
Settled on my skin with pale patterns.
Tell me a fairy tale one more time,
The last story this year,
And I won't remember anything,
Except the quiet snow outside of the scarlet shutters.
You are waving your hands, calling the freedom,
The sleeves of the shirt are fluttering, like an old banner..
Old and so worn off...
The seconds running fast, the minutes sneak up soundlessly,
The days are dissolving, disappearing in the night's aquarell.
You are hiding your face behind the colourful curtains,
You listen to the last note painfully long,
You cover your eyes, drawing with the tips of your fingers
Mysterious letters on a wooden table.
And finally subside last echoes of you,
I close my mind: away, away, away,
I can't listen to you anymore.
The wind has captured my soul,
Someone else's tears
Running down on ginger red floor boards.