(Days In The Blackberries Field 90)
The icily summer morning.
I’m lying on my bed
freshly bathed in silence
and perfumed by emptiness.
Tears of lead are rolling inside,
splashing my mind.
I’m leafing through my thoughts, again.
I’m thinking of you…
Do you remember me sometimes?
When extinguished New Year’s lights
adorn the gates of your city…
Or when the first snowflake falls down
on your eyelash and melts there…
Do you remember me then?
Do you still sit on the platform of Eternity
waiting for my train to come?
I’m wondering because
I am not going to get on that train, again.
I can’t remember who you were.
And I still don’t know who you are.
All meanings of your unspoken words I lost.
But I’ll keep safe forever my the last goodbye.
And the last shake of hands.
I remember that bitter taste of burning
in my mouth on the way back home from Hell.
I will never go that road again.
But sometimes, like this morning,
when sadness imprisons me suddenly
and there’s no other reason to cry,
I look for you, hoping that you will find a way
to wake up my tears and wash away
all dust of my soul.
So, here I am now…
Nothing is happening.