10.

With what force he leapt into the stone garden.
Knocked over the atlas. Strewed weeds everywhere.
Driven by furious gods.
He knew,
he knew about the galaxies,
about the galaxies bonfiring all heritage.
His flower beds gave him sustenance and the fire
and the fire nourished him.
Clay softened the blows,
the blows of history,
history which gave out happiness,
kept floods at bay,
floods which would engulf beds of tall flowers.
If flowers walk under a waterfall, they break.
How much can one bear!
Heavenliness invades time and again.
and that month, polished
and broken.

10.

10.

S kakšno silo je skočil v kamniti vrt.
Prevrnil atlas. Razsul plevel.
Nosila so ga besna božanstva.
Vedel je,
vedel je za galaksije,
za galaksije, ki so kurile dediščino.
Gredice so ga držale in ogenj
in ogenj ga je hranil.
Glina je omilila udarce,
udarce zgodovine,
zgodovine, ki je pošiljala srečo,
zadrževala povodenj,
povodenj, ki bi zalila dolge grede visokih rož.
Če stopijo rože pod slap, so zlomljene.
Koliko človek zdrži!
Nebeškost vdira kar naprej
in tisti mesec, zloščen
in strt.