Hey, you dark sky prison for the birds
and their muted songs.
My sister is a flower!
Can you pick her up and lift her up
to the sun drunk of tar?
Allah doesn’t care for alcohol.
Water is the natural state of love,
as old age knits its endless webs hidden in
the dark. Myths dwell in my dusty attic,
and there they play of oblivion with
the yellowing photos.
Hey, you dark sky how many summer moments
do you need just to inhale once?
I have to grease your hinges and you will
stop creaking during the long autumn nights.
I know that your belly is enormous and you
can swallow all of the human sorrow.
We walk under you, with our heads bowed, our
arms raised, waiting.
Your endless clock is our own calendar
to eternity, that we’ll never be able to understand.
Philosophy is the other word of ours that leads us
to another of your countless dead ends.
Hey, you dark sky please kiss the mountain lakes
and search in their mirrors for your grandeur.
Rain is your tears, which I drink with endless thirst.
Could I cut you up with a wing of an albatross?
Could I dream your nightmares?
How many gods do you hide up there in your crowns
I want to climb your highest peaks and look through
your all-seeing eyes.
You’re not blind, right?
Let’s sing together for old times.
The memories are not forgotten, but reborn in your
What kind of photo album you got?
I will play my next heavenly part, then I will
share with you my plans for the future, which includes
wine, fish, and bread.
I believe we could arrange something!
Bring out your chess board, but beware– someone
else has prepared the winning moves.
The game is eternal!
Hey, you black sky peek through the window
and read these lines in my shabby notebook, before
I fed them to the hungry and burning candle.
Because I need some light.
Your imperishable darkness blesses me.