Flowers

before you pinched me on my burdened shoulders

I was picking flowers from barren boulders

to pluck their petals and settle the matters

still unsolved by centuries’ labours

of scientists, prophets, ‘sophers and lovers.

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Melancholia

211]

I heard you saying to the sunflowers
After the sunset and rain showers:
‘Despair not fellow brothers
After every nothingness is being’

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When you used to live
In the City of Melancholy
you would go to the drug store
And say to the man with gray face:
‘Give me some ointment of pity
For my chest craves a rub’
Then you would go to a dark street
Where sky seemed a still born baby
Out of an untouched woman.

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In your dream I saw the wailing waves
hitting their heads on the shore
in repentance, recounting the tales
of their sins in sobbing tones
and unforgiven they kept coming back.

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