Baltikumi emlék

még augusztus végi-szeptember eleji érzetek, de csak most jutottam el, hogy kitegyem

Tudnál engem szeretni?

Hajamból a kusza villámszálakat

Mint apró faleveleket kiszedni?

El tudod halkítani a tenger elégedetlenkedő moraját,

Nem szűnő vágyaim sirály- vinnyogását?

Simítsd végig bőröm puha homokos partvonalát

Érzed a karmolások kiáltó fenyőtüske nyomát?

Vércseppjeim apró málnaként ragyognak

Ujjaid emlékek parányi nyomain kutatnak.

Could you love me?

Could you take out intricate lightning threads

From my hair like smalll leaflets?

Could you calm down the sea’s malcontent murmur

My never ending desire’s seagull squeaking?

Caress my skin’s soft sanded coastline

You could feel the stracthes sceaming pine-needle signs

My blooddrops shine as little raspberries

November (temporary title)

VÉGRE EGY VERS! (bár még képlékeny:))

Éjjeli lámpák narancsos fénycseppjei koppannak

Cipőm sarka ütemesen felel ritmusára

Megfakult fényképek úsznak a kávéillat homályában

Arcod körvonala remeg az eső könnyed párájában

Emlékeim egyenként hullnak

Pupillád sós vizű tócsájába

Koncentrikus köröket alkotnak

Régmúlt idők gyűrűző visszhangjaival

Szempilláim seprik az esőfellegeket

Tovaillanó nevetések kékre festik a szürke eget

Levelek megannyi apró gyöngyként gurulnak

A novemberi szél hideg lavinájában

Illatod lágy holdfényként ragyog bőrömön

Orrod hegyét érzem hidegtől kipirult orromon

Csókod íze lassan elgurul az esővel

Forralt bor mézétől ragadó ajkamról.

Night-lamps orange lighdrops are pebbleing

My boot’s heel are responding to its rythym

Faded Photos are swimming in coffee perfume’ s shades

Your faces’s  contours are trembling int he rain’s soft steam.

My meories are falling one by one

To your pupil’s salt-watered puddle

Making concentrical circles

With ancient times rippling echoes.

My eyelashes are blooming the rain clouds

Lingering laughts paint the grey sky into blue

Leaves are rolling down as thousand little pearls

In the november rain cold avalanche.

Your perfume lights my skin as sof moonlight

I can still feel the tip of your nose of mine

Your kisses’ taste slowly runs away with the rain

From my lips sticky from sweet mulled wine.

falling away

„We danced on the floor
In my empty house
Winning sudden love” /colorStar/

Falling away


Pebble-cold raindrops are pattering
On my tear.-steam face
Hauling behind their shining trace
Like an aeroplane carves into the sky.

Picked promise-petals
Are lingering in the air
In my hair I smell the bitter perfume
Of a red, stolen geranium-head
.
While dancing tango we breathed in
The intoxication of the huge lily–like crystal chandelier
You were kissing me for a slow melody
With the taste of cigarette and sour red wine.

You caressed my star-pale
Body’s shivering skyline
With your full-moon magnetic green eyes
Slowly let fall my top’s delicate strap.

Small raindrops were dancing
For your wrought-iron bed frame’s rhythm
While me as curious seawater of the shore
Kept tasting your shiny, smooth cinnamon-skin.

Iron-cold raindrops are pattering
To my eyelashes, trembling from tears
Flowing down like shooting stars
On my clothes: wet, cold and sticky

zuhanás (temporary title)

MY latest HALF READY POEM, VOILÁ:)))

„We danced on the floor
In my empty house
Winning sudden love” /colorStar/


Kavicshideg esőcseppek koppannak
Könnygőzös arcomon
Csorogva húzzák maguk után fénylő nyomuk
Miképp repülőgép a karcolja az égboltot.

Letépett ígéret-szirmok
Kergetőznek a levegőben
Hajamban maradt a lopott muskátli
Kesernyés, vörös illata

Tangólépésben szívtuk magunkba
Óriás liliomként lógó kristálycsillár mámorát
Savanyú vörösbor és cigaretta ízével
Lassú dallamra andalogva csókoltál.




Pebble-cold raindrops are pattering
On my tear.-steam face
Hauling behind their shining trace
Like an aeroplane carves into the sky.

Picked promise-petals
Are lingering in the air
In my hair I smell the bitter perfume
Of a red, stolen geranium-head

While dancing tango we breathed in
The intoxication of the huge lily–like crystal chandelier
You were kissing me for a slow melody
With the taste of cigarette and sour red wine.

Sylvia Plath: Lady Lazarus

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

Sylvia Plath Daddy

Daddy
by Sylvia Plath

You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time--
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You--

Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.

If I've killed one man, I've killed two--
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.

para Rodolfo

„Join me baby,
To the song of the sea” /Harcsa Veronika/

Narancssárgás cigaretta füstös paplanon
Hajam lágyan leomlik, megfakul
Tequila, citrom, só, s egy csipet csili
Íze lassan kiszáradó ajkamon.


Nyelveink két kicsiny kígyóként kúsztak
Szájpadlásunk húsos barlangjában
Keveredtek, ölelkeztek, összeolvadtak
Az éjszaka szellőhűvös, sós párájában


Nyelved kíváncsi hegyével éppen csak
Súroltad fogaim fehéres szikláját
Dohánytól száraz ujjaid finoman
Húztad végig forró testem körvonalán


Szemeid finom, puha kávémelege
Elillant mint egy pohárnyi feles
Remegve bizsergető forrósága
Pillanatra elszédítő mámora.


Reggeli napfény karcolja
A redőny réseit arcomra,
Enyhe, langyos melegében
Szempilláim lágyan rebbenek.


Köddé foszlott kávéillatú hajad
Pergamenszáraz kezeid, tequila-ízű ajkad.
Jég-kemény paplanon fekszem, reszketek
Ölelésed már nem melegít, nem véd meg.

Orange-coloured, cigarette smoke blanket
My hair is softly and slowly fading
Tequila, lemon, salt and little chilli’s
Taste on my bit by bit desiccated lips


Our tongues crept like two pet snakes
In our roof of the mouths’ carnal cave
They blended, embraced, melted
In the night’s breeze-cool, salty breath


Your tongue’s curious tip could barely
Touch the whitening rocks of my teeth
You smoothed down your tobacco dried fingers
Tenderly on my fervent female body’s curves


Your eyes smooth coffee-warmth
Escaped like a small glass of short's
Trembling, shaking and pickling heat
Drunkenness makes one dizzy for a minute.


Morning sunshine is carving
The splits of shutter on my face
My eyelashes are moving softly
In the tender warmness.



Your coffee-perfumed hair has evaporated
As your parchment-dry hands and tequila taste lips.
I am just lying, trembling on an ice-severe blanket
Your embrace doesn't warm me up more nor save me.

miaow

"you are one of the loneliest creatures I know" /Rodolfo/

ízig-vérig macska vagyok.

i am a cat. completely.

magányos és társasági.

lonely and social.

néha cirogatásra, törödésre vágyom, máskor magányra.

sometimes i wanna be caressed, be cared, othertimes i need solitude.

néha kedves, dörgölőző, bújos, mosolygós

sometimes kind, slipping to someone, smiling

máskor mérges, karmolós, harapós

once furious, i'm scretching and biting..

szükségem van a társaságra, a figyelemre

i do need company and attention

de mégis mindig egyedül vagyok.

but i am always alone.

a macskák magányos, független lények

cats are lonely, individual beings

igazából nem tartoznak senkihez

honestly they don't really belong to anyone.

és önzők.

yes they ARE selfish.

csak a saját érdekük nézik.

only care about their own interets.

tehát ez vagyok én.

so that's what i like.

de meg kell tanulnom, hogy a pasikat, mint az egereket megölöm ha túlságosan ragaszkodom hozzájuk.

but i have to learn that i'll kill guys like mice if i attach to them too strongly.

és azt is hogy mindig a macska fut az egér után

and also that it is always to cat who runs after mice...

mijáúúú

miaowww

:)

no strings attached

harmadik pasi egy féléven belül akit el kell engednem...
the third guy in a semester i have to let to go..
igen nincsenek véletlenek...
yes there are no hasards of course
semmi sem történik ok nélkül
nothing happens without reason...
tul ragaszkodó önző egoista kapaszkodó dög vagyok
i am a perspon that attaches too strongly, obsinate, stubborn(just hearn the sounding as a cat cathes a mouse- it is hers, but shee KILLSS it)
a szó hangzása is mikor a macska elkapja az egeret és MEGÖLI
ez megfojtás
this attitude is like killing someone on the throat
amikor nem hagyom aludni olyan szorosan ölelem
when i dont let him sleep cos i hug him so strongly
barátnőm mondja h nem lesz senkim ezzel a magatartással m nem lehet elviselni
my friend says i'll no boyfriend cos its impossible to deal with it.
TUDOM.
I DO KNOW.
van egy meditációs előadás után egy blogom erről
there is a previous blog after a meditation lecture about this topic.
könnyű mondani nehéz csinálni.
it is easy to more difficult to do.
de a felismerés rem az első lépés.
but i think recognozing is the first step top change it.
ezért kapom ezeket a tapasztalatokat hogy meg is tegyem.
and i get this experiences for being able to it.
mint itt délen lazíts, engedd el magad, csak használd ki az időt.
like i'm tought here in south to ease, to lose, just to take time.
talánm a fogyás is ilyen.
maybe losing weight is a bit like that.
ha elengedem magam a kilók kül is 1-2 lefut.
if i let it just dont care i might lose weight cos i'm not eating when bored.
az örök depeche mode számmal zárok
i'll finish with the eternal depeche mode song.
egy új kör.
a new circle.
remélem jobb ember leszek apránként.
i hope to a better person step by step.
megtanulom felhasználni a tüzes energiám.
i'll learn how to use my fire energy.
adni adni alkotni sokat sokat
to give give create create
és megtalálni a SZERELMET.
and finding LOVE.

FREE LOVE.

meg a quimby dal: magam adom.
igen ezt akarom ,megadni magam.
and another song: I wana surrender and give myself.
persze gürcsök nélkül.
of course without spasms.
elengedni.
to ease.
mint a víz beleolvadni.
like water just to melt in it.
befogadni.
to recieve someone inside.
meg igenis lemegyek kondizni.
and yes i'll go to gym to ease and let tension go away.
minden az első lépésel kerzdődik.
everything begins eith the first step.
holnap utazom.
tomorrow my plane fly away.

GRACIAS MADRID! TE QUIERO!!

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FcRzJUxQkHw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQMG2ubmu4E
 

Győr psycho

my beloved estonian wiseass was online after a 2month pause, so this chat and one tin of energy drink gave me the necessary force to translate the 3 page long novel...
it is not yet the best translation though i would like to post and share it..
voilá:)

It was extremely cold that night, the frost was penetrating into human flesh like as small icicle knifes until the bones. The wind was slipping under thick coats and pullovers heartily while caressing the petit gaps among ribs, the delicate gated necks and ornamented little earlobes with red spots.

On the corner, a girl was sitting, her long brownish hair covered her face, and her knees were pulled up until her chin. She was grasping a battered mobile phone with her little, chewed nail hands, the mobile screen suddenly flashed in the darkness: text incoming: 15 minutes. The girl pulled her knees ever higher, she slipped her chin into her scarf while her hands into her pockets and waited. Sometimes she took out her phone, tasted again and again the two short words, a magical combination of words and numbers, verified if the time given passed, but she became disappointed that even 2 minutes more. Her nails’ rose seemed to be white on the end of her little red palms, as she was grasping her bag, however when she looked up, she discovered a man’s silhouette in the dark. His tweed coat was swaying to and fro in an elegant way; his eyes were dazzling as lightening fireflies.
The girl sprung up, ran to the man and drilled her little trembling body under his coat, trying to heat herself in the hot vapour of masculine body.

-Come in, I’ll turn the heating on-smiled he.

The keys were shuddering like small dragonfly wings in the lock, and then the man closed the door from all other nightlife voyageur. He turned on the screen of a plasma television and a similar modern style room appeared in the neon light.

-Nice, said the girl.

She would have never imagined how many secrets are closed inside an all city centre house building’s ground floor.

.-Don’t stand about there- addressed her on his pleasant, convalescing voice the man, after they took off their thick winter coats.

The man’s kiss tasted delicate, soft menthol, its mild aroma melted with the white furniture of the room from that the black clothed couple shined out like two ravens.

-Just drink something caressed the man her naked shoulder, Thanks not-kissed she his completely smooth, boyish face.

Please- turned away the summer wind light strap of the girl’s top.

-OK- she smiled. The man poured a drink but only for one person-

-Hey drink too. - asked him while caressing his nice bust.

-Nope. It’s your night. Please, just drink it.

-Okay-she said and drank the unknown mix.

Suddenly, warmness emerged in her body, her clothes seemed to be killing, sultry nylons, stretching uncomfortably on her skin, and she was nearly begging the man to get rid of them. He took them off within a few seconds with his strong hands; they fell on the white couch while her small sharp teeth were carving his silken skin like a chalk the new table. Their naked body were shining in the plasma TV’s neon light, their skin became nearly transparent, the distance between them was getting less and less, during the kisses were becoming hungrier, more and more passionate and violent. The girl gave herself completely to the charm of the night, to the man could possess her body without efforts, biting, lacerating the delicate, tender, young flesh. Their quiet moans, slowly strengthening pulse, flutters of wings were absorbed by the double insulation door.

All at once, with the man’s teeth a bizarre, strange spasm gripped into her.

-No, enough! Finish it! - she screamed.

-We have just started it- sighed he deeply…

-We have no co, I don’t, I don’t want to be…

-What don’t you want? - stood up the man nervously. It will be good, don’t worry, I assure you will enjoy, it was not bad, was it?

-Nope, not all- she tried to excuse.

Then just drink one more glass and forget everything else… Don’t bother about workplace… You could go home in the morning, your parents won’t question you, you are a grown up woman…

Just ease a little bit- was caressing her breasts and biting gently her small ears…. Oh my God, where is my earring? It was one of my favourites- she started to chatter. The man seemed to stay calm but the arch of his eyebrows expressed his anxiety.

-Oh, I’ve just found it, it fell on the couch. OK I’ll put in my purse.

-Yep-he tried to smile. Than one more drink?

-Only if you drink too, and now I’ll pour it.

-Please no, I’ll- he shouted while trying to prevent her access to the ace grey cocktail cabinet.

They keys were glamouring as small medals, his strong hands were grasping her wrists, however she suddenly bit into his naked shoulder who eased grasping, her small cat body escaped. With her mellow legs she leapt to the cabinet, and then a scream shocked the office’s cave.

On the top, there were a bottle of vodka, some whiskey and a little coke, whereas on the others among the ice, cut female heads were staring at the girl.

.On one of them, the long copper red hair could be waist long when she was alive, her eyes’ green were looking at the girl as broken glass pieces. The other one had porcelain white skin and frightfully black hair even it was natural or painted, the third woman could remind of a Finnish or Russian fairy tale heroine with her curly blonde hair and small cranberry blue eyes, but her mouth was deformed into a frightened smile.

There was a Spanish like woman, with a Creole, luxurious perfumed flower silken skin and magnificent black eyes and hair, probably with long predator nails that might have been painted as red as her lipstick conserved by the cold or it might have been simply blood or her mouth.

Her heart was trembling; one could heat her ribs touch, her teeth wee clattering like small cars on her tendon’s road…

-Oh my God! You sadist, murder… -the scream exploded fro the blood vessel fed throat.

- That is the reason why you didn’t drink, to make me drunk and to fuck me, and then I would become one of your trophies. Don’t touch me, than she quickly took her clothes and her bag and started towards the exit.

-You won’t go anywhere, only if I let you- shined the amber colour, predator look in the man’s eyes.

-No, I won’t be your trophy! I’m not a Barbie, a pussy cat, just a short, blondish girl from the English department- Let me go- knocked she the door quite strongly with her little legs.

-No. – he answered in an ice cold voice. You are really different from the others.

-Oh yes, you tell the same to everyone.

-Because they are all different. That is why all trophies are beautiful and unique. Just look. The rosy cheek of North- he pointed on the small apples of the blond girl’s face.

Or the fiery signorina- he laughed ironically. She also tried to escape, also carved with her nails; I could only wear fully done shirts and pullovers to hide them.

- I’m not extraordinary, I chew my nails, my hair is brownish-blondish, and my legs are short. I will never be as beautiful like they are.

- -You are also nice. You are a bit strange according to them.

- Maybe because I’m a kind of Literature student.

- Maybe but it’s not important. I want your pretty head, there- he showed the cocktail cabinet.

-You could be waiting for it. I’ll leave. The cat has nine lives altogether. So if you kill it, eight others will stay- she was trying to calm herself. Lets do it- whispered while with her eyes she was looking for possible exits.

The man’s key was out of his pocket; one good act and she might escape and wake up from this nightmare. These heads in the cabinet must be her imagination; she may have read too much Poe novel.

The icecold knife of the man wad slowly approaching to the pulsing throat of the girl, while she was caressing him around his belt din a hope for getting some time. He was holding the knife less tight while his breath became heavier.

-More- exploded the one syllable, asking, begging and ordering small word and the girl shined exultantly. Due to the pleasure, the knife fell out from his hand while he was lying on the couch. She felt she could no more hesitate, in a second she took her coat and bag, ran to door opened it leaving the fragile, undone trouser man behind.

-You little bitch-murmured him. I have never let any woman escape from here even if I did not manage to make her mine- he gnashed his teeth and flashed his eyes during running to the door. She opened it, and some lingering snowflake-butterfly inside, the man raised up the knife but the wind pushed it back, into his stomach.

The girl had no time for feeling sorry, she started to run with her small legs, breathing quite difficultly, snowflakes were descending until her throat, tickling her mucous membrane.

She began to cough, her bodies bended from the sudden reflect, while boots lost the way on the sneaking plain, death-clear ice membrane.

She got exhausted in scuffle and running, the forceless, panting your creature was not able to stand up without help. It was about 2 o’clock at night, streets were quiet like a cemetery, and everybody spent his /her time in the warmth of flats and houses by sleeping, dancing at a disco or making love in front of a mantelpiece. Her black coat became whiter and whiter from the snow, her skin got similar to her eyes’ gray-blue. The morning snow-cleaners found her corpse and gave to her family.

The man was scarcely able to walk, so he closed the font door and his secret cocktail cabinet, then laid on the couch and tried to call the ambulance with his super-modern, high-tech mobile, but he could not push the call button.

The city received his death uncomprehendly because he was handsome, rich and successful.

-It was only me who knew how life hurt him sometimes and how hard he tried he could not release others’ pain- stated his girlfriend to the local newspaper.

snow storm

Snowflakes are lingering in the air

Like bubbles in a glass of champagne

Trees’ dark silhouette disappear as vapour

In the night’s velvet-delicate embrace.

The full moon’s yellowish lamp-orb shines

In my eyes’ conspiratorial blink of light

My rapid strides don’t sink into,

Just touch the castor sugar-airy snow.

The graceful bath-arc of my shoulder

Sometimes vaguely appears in the night.

I taste the clearness of ice,

Quiver slightly for petit rustles

The church clock is round like full moon.

Its bell sounds in the silence of cold.

In the same minute two screams are cried.

From a hand the old snow-orb falls out.

morning departure

The sun shines through the horizon.

In its vague rose, aquarelle-delicate

Opalescent darkish tree branches’

Veinlaces are outlining softly

I’m drawing the contours of frost-works

With my fingertips on the windows

Like at night in the vapour of the heat inside

You were carving your perfume’s turbulent flame

With your fingers on my ice-satin skin.

With your nails you’ve hollowed furrows

Into my thighs’ snow-whiteness

Your moans have permeated into

My hair’s sparkling, crabbing pulse.

The window’s coldness caresses my face.

In its mirror the trees’ nib are carving your face.

I just straighten my clothes.

My plane takes off.

Among the clouds I might hear your moan.

Ragyogás


Napsugár-könnyed sárgásan ragyogó falevelek
Sziporkázva szállnak, repkednek
Keringőznek a lég nedves kékségében
Köd-finom felhők között suhannak


Gyertyalángként pislognak a hidegben
Világítanak a füst-sűrű ködben
Aranyló füzérként örvénylenek
Fel az ég víztiszta békéjébe.


Pillangószárnyként csapongnak
Lenge pipacssziromként forognak
A fülledt nyár már nem kísérti őket
Elengedték bódító parfüm-vérük
Kínzón lobogó szenvedélyük.


Glamour


Sunshine- airy yellow glowing leaves
Are flying above sparklingly
Just dancing in the humid blue air
Gliding towards mist-delicate clouds


Glimmering as candle lights in the cold
Glistening the smoke-dense fog
A golden shined garland whirling
Up the to sky’s waterclear peace.


Flitting petit butterfly wings
Swirling blossoms of poppies
Sultry summer heat doesn’t tempt them.
They have lost their dazing perfume-blood
Their teasing flamed passion.

ballade pour une femme perdue(English)

Ballade pour une femme perdue

1.

I wanted to shine

Vividly like the fire.

Closed into glass

To flame radinatly

In the clearness of ice

.

I wish the if the teasing

nakedness of my flesh frayed

Its dazing sweetness burned to dust

Sparkled my hair’s fugitive light.

2.

No.

Plenty of flies infested

My fever-fervent body

They like buzzed me round like petit pests

Injecting under my skin their selfish dirt

Tasting me with their disgusting feelers

Stamping on me with their small legs

3.

My skin is lying marble-silkenly

In the burial-silence of snow,death clear.

Screeching ravens are flying around

My leaf likely fallen blood-drops,

My hair whose shine has burned out.

Just bend closer.

In my eyes’ fragile gem you may see

The aeroplane scratched skies.

red and white

Just like wine…
Sweet white wine and the sour. dry red one… with the colour of blood…
Oh the blood… the liquid and essence of like, a salty nectar… the melange of fire and water in the huaman organism…
Red as blood… the magnificient and unique colour due the amount of hemoglobin that is different in every individual… thse small molecules paint the blood diffrent from the dark, slow vermilion to the girlish vivivid red…
The red of blood combined with white of blood inside the body…
The hardness, the force and the stability of bones with the passion and fluidity of blood…
The white of teeth melting int he red of human flesh…
The sharp little stones biting inside the delicaticate blood membraned human skin …

flamenco English

finally I found it...

Flamenco

To Adam

Million petit poppyblossom-flames

Are dancing, swinging fluently

Their fireskirts are flitting softly in the wind

A pebble knocks in the wind's voice of guitar.

Heavy bell sounds.

The storm's obscure veil falls

Over the meadow writhing from rhytm.

Puts out their little, volatile fire

Cuts their grassleaf-delicate throat

With a steelcold lightning-knife

Million petit blooddrop-blossom

Fall softly on the ground

Their redwine tears

Roll in your glass.

idille/English/

Idille
« Hiver. Je voudrais être avec toi, à côté d’un feu » /Dotremont/
Hailstones in high-heel shoes are tapping
On my window
Flames in flagrant red skirts are dancing
In the tile stove
One raven-plume’s lying on the ethereal snow,
My panting body on the petalfacile pillow.


You put away my glowing hair from my visage
Playing with your slender fingers on my stem’s harp
Caressing my mellow, moonlight-silken skin
Kissing my breasts-two round pearls- softly.


Your lips are tender, delicious snowflakes
While your teeth icicles, sharp and petit
They become absorbed in my naked flesh
And slowly melt in my blood, scarlet-fervent.

my predator

You asked me to dance. Hauiling to you closer
With your sharp flashing, amber coup d’oeil
Slicking to me voloptously with your limber frame
Heaving your hand lusciuosly on your squirming chase
Luxuriating the petit bend
Pillows between my breasts.


You carved with mirrormordant knife
Under my blossompetal skin
My parfumedelicate flesh opened out slowly
Screwing, slicing up carefully
My lungs’ two mellow nerved leaves


Playing on my hearts’ violin
Songs, sauterne, frantic
Tearing the bow of my blood vessels
The pulsing, beating instrument
Screeched, squilled and trembled
Until the bowls were raptured
By her master’s voloptous vapours.

Iseut modern

Iseut modern


In the leaden strangler cloud-haze
Flies a racing, steely slim aeroplane.
Freedom locked into frozen nitrogen
Devotion fastened with safety belts.


It is sinking. Approaching. Quite close.
I see it from splash scratched by icespots.
Concrete-hard dash
Iron-tasted crank
Death is dancing with a smile on his lips.
The flames are playing on the flute for him.


The enormous metalsleek stomach
Is vomiting human-flesh out.
You step out. You eyes’ ethereal glow
Has saved you. Blood is just on your clothes.


I walk up to you. My hair is silken flowing
Tinkling, sunshine perfumed, laughing.
My secret is waters. Herbs are my support.
You join me. Geometric houses are harbour.


Encompassed by the roaring civilizated town
Solaced by the mellow, tender butterflypillow.
Cosseted by cordial lustre of fireplace
Caressed by soft velvet-embrace.
I’m haling douce needle on your skin
On your flesh, neural, naked
Vermilion-loved dolour is jumping
On our freezing bones blanches.


The law is mirrorplain. Cold. Sheeny.
You have to return back and leave me.
The lamp glints. Your plane takes off.
I’m torn by sharp teethed, leafless woods.

nocturne/English/

Nocturne

Rivulet, tasted moonlight.

Cloud-perfumed glide.

Mist’s thrilling the leaves

Time’s grinding some whist.

The coldness is quiet. Just trembles.

Stars are playing on the harp over.

My ballerinas’ shadowbutterflies

Are flitting in the icelucid night

My tendril like arms are twisting

Scrambling, squrming up to the spheres

I’m grinding with my fingers mild vibrancies

Tasting with my lips rustling lustre memories.

Solitude. But magic, spell and glamour.

Then rendez-vous, chit-chat , inner town.