The Beautiful Melancholy
Your light-sensitive words
explore the boundaries
of my soul.
An invincible lie
smothers the most beautiful
I would like to drink from a cup
of your hands, but I have poisoned myself
Silence and fire collide,
painful pleasure teases
the white thin bone of my breath.
Your dreams fit into a single drop
Your desires contain the entire past.
The night aches, pregnant stars
peek from below a ceiling.
We will remain here as long as
there is the unrequited loneliness in us.
On the other side of sky
the sad God waits for us.
I look for signs of love in your gaze.
The Forbidden Hearts
There is not the whisper in us
to save the world
There is no love in us
to hound the forbidden hearts.
I woke up despite
a thunderous applause,
I woke up in the arms
of a fallen man.
Silence is filled with
Night has blossomed in me
so that I may fall asleep by accident.
I do not fear repentance for sins
I have willingly committed.
Please let your nearness be a signpost
for me on a desert island.
The anniversary of our thirtieth death
Before God awakens, let us draw a mark
of the coming apocalypse
on our hearts.
The Black, Proud Wind
Dancing tears wander on
a border between love and pain.
A few extinguished kisses
remain of life.
The kingdom of melancholy
is overflowing, new guests must wait.
Extensive maps, deltas of veins
on dry wrists.
No starry horizons in sight.
I put our passion in my pocket,
colorless lips resting on taut skin.
Though we wait for the next world,
though we resurrect credulous fantasies,
our lives will remain true
I wish I could touch the water, but
the weary fire burns within me.
The final death will belong to us.
In us will be reborn the time
that everyone seeks.
The power of tomorrow will not win
against the black, proud wind.
A made-up world is not conducive
to cloudy love.
United constellations stare at us
from behind the door
leading to God’s bedroom.
Sad smiles grow within us,
our feet stumble over the edge
There is a tree in me
that has grown without complaint.
There is the death in me
for which no name fits.
Is there anyone here to teach me
the human language?
Is there anyone here
who will knock on the door
on my behalf?
Another angel has fallen to Earth,
God has not noticed it.
This mask is becoming uncomfortable.
Let us dance while the dawn lasts.
Let us dance while
the world lives in us.
The Border of Music
The fear walks on tiptoe.
The time is lost behind the border
The stray angels invite you
to dance, God keeps a low profile.
Before this night sticks its tongue
between bare words,
before the dawn takes care of the
let us wake up in no one’s memory.
There is no silence in us
that can soothe our starched senses.
I refuse to defy fate.
Puffy green clouds grace our souls.
Souls are black and deaf.
Think before you die on trial.
Think before you are resurrected.
Will we make it to the surface
if we consent to one more sin?
The Painful Caress
I was visited by the day
before yesterday’s dream.
I fed my heart with scraps
of lost feelings.
God is playing hide and seek
with us again, but this time
we are the ones who win.
Angels wear bloodstained robes,
have not brushed their teeth
for a long time,
have neglected their wings.
withering without a whisper
like a willow at a crossroads,
try to get into
my mangy, soft sleep.
The final, painful caress
slips from between greedy fingers.
There is no love in us,
it is gone along with tomorrow’s myth.
This smile does not look good
Not to face you with humility
that would bear forbidden fruit.
The last tear sealed
the lost eternity.
Silence returned to sell our thoughts.
You were born of that light
which you never felt comfortable with.
You have arisen from the silence
that is thinner than the whisper.
You sail backward through
dead wrecks of hurricanes,
through the swirls of millennia.
You look closely at your starched soul,
you count wrinkles
that have covered this face
with a dense web.
Black-eyed hope tries to catch up
with you, but you let yourself
be carried away
by the threadbare wind.
All your senses are against you,
all eyes are on you.
I did not know who you were
since God stripped my soul
from my body.
Stray hearts already know
where to learn love.
This love is not like your dream.
The Edge of the Light
And when the rain begins to fall,
we will all realise
that too much separates us
from the dawn.
When the world is rid of its shroud,
the sky will slip over our unclosed eyelids.
The terrifying morning will end
as usual with the sweetest night.
Disturbed wilderness flashes
a stolen constellation rolls between
I do not want to die in vain.
I do not want to live
at your command.
I do not want to dream,
even though I got the hiccups.
I stop again at the edge of light.
I look for the firstborn wrinkle
on your forehead.
Time bites at my heart.
The borrowed sunset has long failed to understand
my unborn dreams.
From behind the curtain of pain
looks my ragged soul.
The Thorny Shadow
My best dream died silently.
As long as I dream of
I will not stop loving my enemies.
Savage eras are fleeing
The stolen light still illuminates
the wayward silence in which
I hide my naked memories.
Its high time to take a breath,
even though your lungs are refusing
I hid snow in my hands to feed
Unfinished roads invariably lead to
my unnamed love.
God waits politely before we go to sleep
once and for all.
I do not know where to look for
I do not know where my borrowed story
I have been wandering among
the constellations for a long time,
I wander from door to door,
but the light will not go out.
I kindle the thorny shadow in you,
but my soul is hurting me.
There is no such love
that we would like to say goodbye to.
The Carnivorous Flowers
Carnivorous flowers of words.
Damn thoughts under
I did not want to tear your lungs
or that eaten heart.
Time of the birth of light
is inevitably drawing near,
the hour as promiscuous as
I would love to be resurrected,
but my fears have wandered
Please do not promise me
unknown skies, black blood blooms
in the fists of my pupils.
I cannot wait to capture my soul,
broken wings will not be hurt.
There is no faith in us,
faith as thin as the bone between teeth.
Teach me to live little by little,
without the truth.
Yesterday’s love stuck
in my veins, the imagined desert
Our tears are rolling, unfinished tears,
Another Sun rose accidentally,
the last bird fell off sky.
Conscience, cut in half, is merely the black flower
in an empty cradle.
We are all at the head of this world
that is dying without the last rites.
Come to share your body
The wisdom of mornings
does not end with love.
There is still a cosmos
that the Creator does not know.
The silence that makes you
unable to breathe.
A black slice of nobody’s faith
that you wear around your neck
like a medallion.
Through black alleys
flow unknown eras, the lost millennia.
Forbidden truths swirl.
Unborn lies climb the heart
to the peak of hatred,
from where they fall straight into
the throat of the Moon.
Do not make me confess
in your language.
I have not known for a long time
where the footsteps of God lead,
where the source of your squalid memory is.
I dance without the moment’s rest.
I dance though
I have no sense of rhythm,
though the last exclamation mark
has fallen from your lips.
It is enough if you let me see
myself in your freshly washed shadow.
There is no pain to help us
get out of the shackles
God has put on our thoughts.
There is no music in our souls
to soothe the light.
I defend myself from happiness,
I defend myself from the body
I have left of you.
I disguise myself in skin
so no one will accidentally see my heart,
which is immature
despite the late autumn.
Against this winter,
apple trees have blossomed,
we have been deprived of
the beauty that the Lord has hidden
in our eyes.
Snow dies in our hands,
the Sun turns its face away.
Since the last star has fallen into the abyss,
I have no interest in life.
Since colourless dreams
crowd at the door,
it is high time to open the window.
I am heartily afraid
whether God will be late this time too.
Another unfinished dream
has fallen from the top
of my soul.
I know it is worth dancing one more time.
The Face of the Sun
I am left with a memory of you,
crumpled like a candy wrapper.
The face of the Sun
is streaked with tears,
the Moon is late for work
once again because it heartily hates
We are united by suffering,
suffering heavier than a shadow
that the cross casts.
Lord, why were we all born in hell?
Why did our immortality end
at the very beginning?
God spreads his hands, I do not think
he speaks my language.
Will we find enough faith
in ourselves to say goodbye
Capricious are these indigenous stars.
Please teach me to speak of love,
though I have long refused to believe
Innocence blooms on
the graves here.
A Kiss of Hostile Lips
Breath-weary bodies rest
at the door of God’s bedroom.
The head is crowded with thoughts
that someone has caught
in the act.
The conscience aches from an excess
Feed me with your fat blood.
Stand at the gates
of the world from where you can see
burnt cities, metropolises bathed in
their blood and tears,
where man pretends to be God.
I am afraid of the words
I have left of you.
I wish I could die a trial,
but time has faded.
Do not worry, the times will return
when souls were in abundance.
Time to seal love with a kiss
of hostile lips.
The ardent arms try to sniff out
a shred of compassion.
I promise I will wake up before
you are resurrected.
I vow to bring a sparkle to your eyes.
Like the Glow
The horizon smells like the glow
that is hopeful
and moist with tears.
The light that gives birth
to a thorny shadow,
the shadow engulfing reality.
The source flourishes in the midst of
Our pain feeds tired dreams.
The emerald fiery silence of your gaze