English version:
The May is coming.
So cold.
Among spring nights.
So cold.
In your hands
Breath is freezing
When your fingers
Touch my face.
Silent.
You are whispering.
For crying
Time will come later.
Dead birds among lilacs.
So cold.
Wind which threw down corpses from trees
Is the same
Which froze singing
And eyes.
My eyes.
The winter has been hiding
In the crowns of trees.
Do you hear?
Sirens singing.
Just a moment
And blood will curdles in veins.
Still
So far to dawn.
Air is scorching with cold
Do you know
That you have crows eyes?
Im choosing cold
Striking from your body
Than reflection
Muzyka płynie poprzez tłum.
Czar skrzypiec
Uwodzicielski ton.
Muśnięcia gromadzą burzę
Dźwięków nad fortepianem.
Bal, ach bal.
Och bal i tęcza na sali
Bije od jedwabnych szat.
Lecz oczy nie oczu szukają
Ach, oczy pod rzęsami się skrywają.
Cóż one, tak szybko
Uciekają?
Usta rozchylone w lekkim uśmiechu
Perfekcja.
Nie zadrżą nawet kąciki warg.
Perfekcja!
Czerwień tak krwista,
Tak bardzo nie-niewinna
Lecz cóż to znaczy
Jest bal, och bal
I szelest jedwabi
I dotyk koronek
I feeria barw jak w kalejdoskopie.
Płynny szkarłat
Niczym neon razi oczy.
Kolejna warstwa płynu
Zmienia jej twarz w obraz.
Abstrakcyjne kolory,
Surrealistyczne linie
Jak marmur biała
Jak porcelana gładka
Twarz.
Doskonały obraz Ewy.
Czy to znaczy że jestem w raju?
Jeszcze chwila i otworzy swoje bramy
Zakazana rozkosz.
Ale, oh boże czy nie rozumiesz
Że jej wzrok spala
Całą moją wiarę na popiół.
Całe niebo na jej powiekach
A kiedy zamyka oczy
Widzę drobne gwiazdy błyszczące dla mnie.
Jeszcze jeden ruch pędzlem
I ta nieznana artystka
Z odrobiną ró&
English version:
Im here.
Why are you running?
Why are you bidding me
To keep the keys beside me?
Ah, why are you screaming?
I just want to hear your singing.
You are breaking your wings
And my heart
Hitting with your body on iron rods.
Im here.
Why are you turning back?
Why are you bidding me
To tie your wonderful hands?
Even the most painful touch of your fingers
Is a delight to me,
But you want to scratch your eyes.
Im still standing beside you
Waiting for orders,
But I cant let you go
You mean to much for me.
I kindled fire for you
To chase away the coldness.
I got the fruit for you
To satia
English version:
Moisture In the air
No, it arent tears.
Thats the way rain has fallen down
Without a brake for a few days.
Its coming
I hear her song from afar
Tinged with sirens voice.
Erasing the bounds that which is between
Fills thoughts liquid hydroxide.
If only I could soar myself
But I have imbued with moisture too much
So I only wait.
Heres coming flood.
The wave has covered the clouds
And for one moment I thought
That at last the silence is coming.
Strange arms abducted my body.
Shell among the element.
Everything that I have believed
Everything that I have trusted
Was destroy
English version:
Burning butterflies.
Like summer rain
falling ash.
Red eyes.
I cannot tear away my gaze
From flames.
And flowing blood beneath eyelids
Annoys with scent my nostrils.
Am I the only one?
Wandering among the ruins
And the remainders of conflagration.
It is yesterday
Dancing butterflies
Scorching themselves
Gently loosing their ballast.
Like in a winter
Sprinkles
Like a snow.
I`m tasting
Like a child,
Who I swallowed.
Like a snow
I`m tasting
Ash at the top of my tongue.
I could swear,
That I`m slowly relishing
My own life.
Same bitter,
Same grinding between teeth.
Fiery fans
As from land of
English version:
Reflection on crawling moment.
I`m consuming forbidden fruit in silence.
Tiny and wrinkled.
Dry and acid.
Interweaved with little seeds
Of cloves` scent
And taste full of bitterness.
Reflection on bygone life.
Slowly I`m chewing tiny pieces.
There was no serpent,
There was no tree.
I lifted it and brushed off from sand.
Again my curiosity doomed myself.
Reflection on forlorn subsistence.
And I`m looking among grey vapors
How earth is gasping beneath my burden,
How hissing with voice of tiny geysers
How threatening with voice of thousands volcanos.
Under this thin crust on which I`m treading
Rivers boils a
Bird with too little wings by Mairreadd, literature
Literature
Bird with too little wings
English version:
Bird with too little wings
To my hands toddled.
On fingers bearing thoughts heavy from lead
I lifted conglomerated eyelids.
And again I have seen dust and sand
And yellowed grass,
And again I have felt stench of rotting flesh.
Evidently act hasn`t died away yet
And I haven`t heard the echo of ovations
For withering man at the crossroads.
Reluctance like bile filled every cavity in my body,
As a snake crawled among organs.
Tragedy written out to acts
Was sparkling with desert`s hues.
Without water, nor wings I`ve become her prisoner.
With impatiently I waved on him aside,
Just wanted to chase him away.
I don`