BLUE JELLYFISH
foggy night it spits with rain flickering lights here and there desert the Bedouins’ followers socialize round the red-hot grill grates it is past midnight the luxury limousines run along the eight lanes to one direction the fever of black gold or. . .rush hour? We cross Dubai always awake at dawn the shadow of mystery disappears a sick sun, come out from the placenta of the clouds whips the sea that runs away from the seashore In the Persian Gulf the blue jellyfish remain exiled on the sand still wet they agonize on the dehydrated sand white corridors of salt divide the solar light into visible spectrum we leave Burj Kalifa behind us with the unearthly point of spear making the blue bleed defying gravity and the arrogance of an old-fashened west I am in United Arab Emirates a Heliopolis of glass and steel made from sand and reeds fishermen’s huts and the play to the sky is only at the beginning
SPOTS OF COLOUR ON DONAU CANALE
I’ve grown sick of death’s kiss in solitude though I bleed for the heavenly fruit and shadows roll over me from the wax museum enchained for another summer between the walls powdered with graffiti I see again the painting with leaves of wax in the empty street that goes to Pater and I say goodbye and leave (from the imperial capital)
English version by Olimpia Iacob & Jim Kacian
|