Elegy

I cannot stand still and wait

In the infinite generosity of this urban paradise

When you haven’t promised me
the right time,
the right reason,
the right resolution,

to conspire with ourselves on the edge of provocation;
for as long as you haven’t promised me
that courage will grow as long as
the hair extensions of weeping willows,
as the deafening explosions of thunders
that roll and tumble into the abyss
crushing the charred coals of the heavenly ashes
where our film strip was all of a sudden burnt –
the fatal assault we do to each other while naked
in the imaginary battle, night after night,
tooth and nail…

…but neither can we escape like this, . . .
without knowing the precision it takes to complete
the full rotation of a sunflower in the dark –
the instinct of its orientation
among the roaring of subterranean rivers,
that split the drunk Erebus
from resurrection to resurrection.

Translated into English: Elvana Zaimi & Craig Czury