A Jazz Poem

- a solo nijuin renku - English version by Liviu Martinescu entrance to an underground crowds in winter's clouds and an atomic clock to boot the first snowflakes on the punching bag in the yard the jazz poem the town is creeping into the golden scale enormous through teardrops the whitewashed houses symphonic white out of scores of thunderbolts some leaves on the moon "and thus she sleeps awake long after she's got up" the motorcycle that's carrying them entwined is curbing the hour raceless race-course the loneliness of no-horses the streets sweat out in the glove of speed no time for tomorow seven doves go clink against the rosetta of the cathedral the pollen at night migrates into saints' bodies as well as violins the lark's feathers made iridescent by the moonshine circling the deserted merry-go-rounds the glider a whirl of silences only balmy tree-branches breeze here not whispers each body leaks out its own time two abysses dark rails pulsating under streetcars yellow saxophone toward the super-yellow sky it's me in there in the sound the concert eroticized new swallow nests the raw soil blooming among cherrytrees beyond the wall in the shadow of the piano the spring bread