My own poem

A teraz niečo pre tých, čo rozumejú po anglicky.
Sorry my bad english, ale zatiaľ sa po anglicky ešte učím. Táto báseň je podľa mňa menej pestrá ako tie predošlé, ale to bude tým, že je v rýmoch a ešte k tomu v jazyku, v ktorom mám dosť obmedzenú slovnú zásobu. Mimochodom, keby ste nevedeli, komu ju venujem... Volá sa Mehmet Günsür. Mrs. Frederiksson je Marianne Frederiksson, autorka Kto kráča v temnotách (skvelá kniha, odporúčam). Mimochodom, spomínala som, že som sa narodila 8.mája?


Oh, gosh, I'll never know, what beauty really means
How it is to be interested in
Heaven, please, be graceful for the foolish one
Who have never comitted any sin


Who is a girlfriend of his own conscience
And not a foe, as it have to be
Be graceful for the breathing perfectness
'Cause that's my eyes now see


For you eyes, I would kill, I would give a life to death bodies
I would see altrought I'm blind as Mrs. Frederiksson said
In your eyes, there's no snow, nor a heaven, nor worries
They are sadness, the punish, two little deathbeds


They are two dried ponds, full of dark turkish soil
The promisse of nothing or something you would be
They are shadow, mist, liquid easy boiled,
Your damned secret privacy


The All-Wiling, please, don't tell him
I imagined him slowly dying
I always flew against the stream
But now somehow I can't be wiling


May I may come to you with may
The one day what we share
There's no way for me to stay
There's no way to stop and stare