A keresés eredménye

Shards of Memories

Alone, he writes
Short poems on the water
Oh, to find a Chinese blossom
And old wisdom within
Romances and friendships
Bitterweet moments
Its ancient silence
Knows it all
 
Someone’s blood
Carries away a hidden string
He, too, used it to write
A few chapters
On the death of beautiful deer
A panachida1
For the youthfullness
He forgot about
 
Shards of memories that return
Those precious shards of moments
The strange man
Who spent everything on nothing
For a couple words that will get jumbled with time
 
Memories are
Dancers’ muslintransparent, delicate and feather-light cotton fabric
They come
To tell us
Stories
 
Oh, to rewind this movie just once
To turn it back just once
To turn back time just once
To the point of loss
 
Oh, to fly just once to the place
Where we no longer are
To be alone for a while
To center yourself
 
Once you know
You lose everything
Once you find out
Love is no more
 
Shards of memories that return
Those precious shards of moments
 
Memories are
Poems hidden in us
A sadness
Handed out by time
 
Memories are
Dancers’ muslin
Try to find a couple of their words
On the water
 
Oh, to rewind this movie just once
To turn it back just once
To turn back time just once
To the point of loss
 
Oh, to fly just once to the place
Where we no longer are
To be alone for a while
To center yourself
 
Once you know
You lose everything
Once you find out
Love is no more
 

• 1. a memorial service for the dead

A Little Sad Ballerina

The audience is already gone
And the theater is almost closed
Even the whisperer had stopped to whisper
There is only one person left
Alone in the dressing room
A little sad ballerina
An old drunk wig-maker
God knows where he got drunk again
He´s stucked here as always
Gossip for 2 dl of alcohol
About with whom and where are the ballerinas
Everybody envies him that
 
The lights are turned off
From the transistor sounds Bach
There is a ballerina left alone in the dressing room
With a dry bouquet in the corner
And a smoke from the ashtray
Draft like a razor
 
And inside there in the silence of the walls
Thinner than her own shadow
A little sad ballerina
Coffee in the broken cup
Something like a foreboding
Of a weird situation without the witness
 
They found her changed there
As if she went through the wall
A plaster behind her nails
She will be missing tomorrow
In her ensemble
A pretty ballerina
 
Nobody knows what happened
Her death is not a trick
Anetka still lays on the floor
After the unhappy love story
The secrets of her empty wardrobes
A little sad ballerina
 
Everywhere is freezing cold
The colours on the walls are fading out
A the spider is weaving his web
The snow falls down on the theater
And on the floor still lays
A liitle dead ballerina