| англиски
Lassitudo
(exhaustive interpretations)
The crystal bars are
no more,
nor the drops of fire
washed by the wind.
While the grass is growing
I meagerly take
its fruit –
grains of junk.
And so I still rummage throught the rubble. |
(Никогаш повеќе, Ленора)
Never again, Lenore!
The familiar room
awaits the host.
Dance, then, in pools of ink!
Then, the blue traces...
Are the tombs that smile
comfortable to their guests
so that the pecking
and all the waiting is equal
to the birds’ croak?
Wait!
December is in a pathetic fit
and depends the making
of verse
Melodrama for melomadmen!
Lenore, my dear,
are you leaving, figuretively?
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