Рики Даскал

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TWO POEMS ABOUT JESUS

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A SONG OF THE STONES

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TRANCE FORMATION

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THE FOUR SEASONS

Превод: автора

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Thou hast made summer and winter

I remember this

When the wind howls through the poplars

like souls roiling in a chimney.

 

Harry Hirschfeld is a stumbling stone in the streets of Berlin

not far from the Apollo Sauna.

The Gordian knot of death and sex takes many forms.

 

Harry Hirschfeld was cast to his death

on the twenty-sixth of November nineteen thirty-eight

the century in which I was born and gave birth

and like a sea spitting flotsam to the shore

impaled on my childhood’s shoals

the faces, frocks, fading smiles of

Eckhart, Ziva; Eckhaus, Nitza; Lichthaus, Shoshi

maybe because of the Eck

maybe because of the Haus

maybe because of the Licht

maybe because the mind

has its own ways to take wing and flee.

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