III. Allegro, ma non

Pale is the sky of my hometown, pale like nothingness,
and from such nothingness the transmission towers fade in
one after another, only to fade out
into nothingness again.

 

I found the sparrow at last.
I gave no eulogy, for I’ve
always been laughable
when it comes to words.
Feathers quivered in the breeze
before dirt covered them, 
and I swear I heard the earth say -
your body is but the soul’s hearse.

 

Bare is the dandelion after a wind, bare like nothingness,
and nothingness stares. It turns, tears, burns, breaks;
still the cypselae are always
better off far away.

 

I look inside my head, and nothingness greets me. I devour it
until the vomit replaces the air in my lungs
and until I lose time and love and
whatever’s in between,
but I can’t seem
to stop.
What is better, an empty room
Or a fortress of mirrors?
O life, how did you drift
by the gentlest of zephyrs yet
stand immovable midst
one thunderstorm after another?
How did you make a sky out of every cage
while I made a cage out of every sky?
Tell me, birdie, do: if air fails to catch me,
will earth too?

 

Lost is a leaf in the depth of woods, lost like nothingness,
not for it’s gone but for it’s everywhere. The air ripples.   
When December falls, I, too, am everywhere,
burning under the pitch-black midday sky
like time, like love, like nothingness itself.