from "Gozd in kelihi" ("Woods and Chalices"), 13-14
Hey monarch, ferry me across
the river. A nettle nips, a nettle
does not nip, a nettle
does not die from frost. We gurgle
tar, still unborn
piglet with pretty and white and long
hair, else
sorrow, sores, pain
and vertigo.
Do you also fight for her like a lion?
For screams I'm patriotic.
Sidewalks are kind.
The corners of sidewalks are kind
to invalids. To return love to the blind.
To make it dewy, to make it
seen, to make it watered by
their gazes. To return sight to the blind.
I will thrust the smell of river sand.