This Winter

this winter brought over the city a fine and cold rain thunder through the quarrel corners hatred seeds on the fronts the uninvited’s apple chopped by the chatterbox tongue thread for the treasures’seekers the dragon has killed the cranes and the mandarine ducks are mere glass nicknacks in a junk shop window hungry for the sun the seagulls peck the rays thrown on the window panes carnival costumes are walking as the music of a gramophone on the leaves’skeletons synthetic peacock feathers sprangles masks mandolines and flutes shaddows on a mythless coin the morning star-on top of the steeple reads the holy books masses on water circles wake up the sparrows in the ice castles untouched by sympathy stays knelt in the battle spittle the warriors(in wierd clothes:outside males,inside females) fascinated by death * the little boys and girls –they do not know what they are-maybe sparrows others think they are stags most of them are sure they are warriors the only child destined to the pain from his stone tower watches how the night struggles to wrest the time its identity (translated by Margareta Mioc )