The Poem About a Mood


It snows
and my unmoving hand
is touched by a colorless frost

the good offices of the evening invite
a painful stillness
for eyes opened
inward

for the bitter skin
of the wind
cartwheeling against the windows

for the words that drift over me

The Poem About Dark Rings


I pass beyond time
dumbfounded
with arms that dangle down below my body
with eyes encircled by dark rings
from the faraway light

the shadow I dread
slips inside the words
my tongue honed sharp I lick them up
there in the empty place
where the stone slides into the sea
with its stony burdens
I still have strength to cry out
there's nobody here
there's nobody here

The Poem About the End


Only the words have bound us
to our fragile destinies
a signet concealed in sadness's eye

and now my loneliness
becomes a bird
which sets its wings ablaze
to burn the air with inexpressible beauty

and now, don't you see, I'm afraid
this poem
has arrived at the end


-translated by Adam J. Sorkin and Dan Dutescu