To all those who are turning 40 this month: this song is for you!
IT RAN WITH THE FLUTTERING…
It ran with the fluttering away. It stood – and is standing
These forty years as spectral forest.
You don’t have, Childhood, already my youth,
a bundle stayed, rock.
– But how to untangle the vein on the stone,
With fingers to look into stone interiors?
– Raise the forehead and don’t laze about lazybones,
To the hand-to-hand combat.
A rye burnt down, the dawn from the fallen tree is smoking,
I am going with fingers through the fog lacerated.