Far Within Us #3
Unquiet you walk
Along the rims of my eyes
On the invisible grating
Before your lips
My naked words shiver
We steal moments
From the unheeding iron saws
Your hands sadly
Flow into mine
The air is impassable
Trans. by Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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Far Within Us #2
Look here's that uninvited
Alien presence look it's here
A shudder on the ocean of tea in the cup
Rust taking hold
On the edges of our laughter
A snake coiled in the depths of the mirror
Will I be able to hide you
From your face in mine
Look it's the third shadow
On our imagined walk
Unexpected abyss
Between our words
Hoofs clattering
Below the vaults of our palates
Will I be able
On this unrest-field
To raise you a tent of my hands
Trans. by Anne Pennington
Anonymous submission.
poem by Vasko Popa

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Far Within Us #7
Toothed eyes fly
Over still waters
Around us purple lips
Flutter from branches
Screams hit the blue
And fall onto pillows
Our homes hide
Behind narrow backs
Hands clutch at
Flimsy clouds
Our veins roll turbid
Bed and tables
Of shattered bones
Noon has fallen into our hands
And turned all gloomy
An open grave on the face of the earth
On your face on my face
Trans. by Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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Give Me Back My Rags #4
Get out of my walled infinity
Of the star circle round my heart
Of my mouthful of sun
Get out of the comic sea of my blood
Of my flow of my ebb
Get out of my stranded silence
Get out I said get out
Get out of my living abyss
Of the bare father-tree within me
Get out how long must I cry get out
Get out of my bursting head
Get out just get out
Trans. by Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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Far Within Us #5
The nights are running out of darkness
Steel branches grasp
The arms of passers-by
Only anonymour chimneys
Are free to walk the streets
Which slice across our sleeplessness
In the gutters our stars decay
Trans. by Anne Pennington
Anonymous submission.
poem by Vasko Popa

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Give Me Back My Rags
Just come to my mind
My thoughts will scratch out your face
Just come into my sight
My eyes will start snarling at you
Just open your mouth
My silence will smash your jaws
Just remind me of you
My remembering will paw up the ground under your feet
That's what it's come to between us
Trans. by Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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Far Within Us #6
From the wrinkle between my brows
You watch till day breaks
On my face
The waxen night
Is beginning to singe
The fingers of dawn
Black bricks
Have already tiled
The whole dome of the sky
Trans. by Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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Far Within Us #4
Green gloves rustle
On the avenue's branches
The evening carries us under its arm
By a path which leaves no trace
The rain falls on its knees
Before the fugitive windows
The yards come out of their gates
And stand looking after us
Trans. by Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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Far Within Us #1
We raise our arms
The street climbs into the sky
We lower our eyes
The roofs go down into the earth
From every pain
We do not mention
Grows a chestnut tree
That stays mysterious behind us
From every hope
We cherish
Sprouts a star
That moves unreachable before us
Can you hear a bullet
Flying about our heads
Can you hear a bullet
Waiting to ambush our kiss
Trans. by Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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Give Me Back My Rags #12
Enough chattering violets enough sweet trash
I won't hear anything know anything
Enough enough of all
I'll say the last enough
Fill my mouth with earth
Grit my teeth
To break off you skull guzzler
To break off once for all
I'll just be what I am
Without root without branch without crown
I'll lean on myself
On my own bumps and bruises
I'll be the hawthorn stake through you
That's all I can be in you
In you spoilsport in you muddlehead
Get lost
Trans. by Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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Give Me Back My Rags #1
Give me back my rags
My rags of pure dreaming
Of silk smiling of striped foreboding
Of my cloth of lace
My rags of spotted hope
Of burnished desire of chequered glances
Of skin from my face
Give me back my rags
Give me when I ask you nicely
Trans. by Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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Give Me Back My Rags #11
I've wiped your face off my face
Ripped your shadow off my shadow
Leveled the hills in you
Turned your plains into hills
Set your seasons quarreling
Turned all the ends of the world from you
Wrapped the path of my life around you
My impenetrable my impossible path
Just try to meet me now
Trans. by Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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A Conceited Mistake
Once upon a time there was a mistake
So silly so small
That no one would even have noticed it
It couldn't bear
To see itself to hear of itself
It invented all manner of things
Just to prove
that it didn't really exist
It invented space
To put its proofs in
And time to keep its proofs
And the world to see its proofs
All it invented
Was not so silly
Nor so small
But was of course mistaken
Could it have been otherwise
Trans. Anne Pennington
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poem by Vasko Popa

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Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Rendezvous on Champs-Elysees
Leave Paris in the morning on T.E.E.
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
In Vienna we sit in a late-night cafe
Straight connection, T.E.E.
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
From station to station
back to Dusseldorf City
Meet Iggy Pop and David Bowie
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
song performed by by Kraftwerk

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Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Rendez-vous auf den Champs Elysees
Verlass Paris am Morgen mit dem TEE
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
In Wien sitzen wir im Nachtcafe
Direkt Verbindung TEE
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Trans Europa Express
Wir laufen 'rein in Duesseldorf City
Und treffen Iggy Pop und David Bowie
song performed by by Kraftwerk

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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En Tout Cas
WHEN I am glad I need your eyes
To be the stars of Paradise;
Your lips to be the seal of all
The joy life grants, and dreams recall;
Your hand, to lie my hands between
What time we walk the garden green.
But most in grief I need your face
To lean to mine in the desert place;
Your lips to mock the evil years,
To sweeten me my cup of tears,
Your eyes to shine, in cloud's despite,
Your hands to hold mine through the night.
poem by Edith Nesbit

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Lady Anne
I
Dear lady Anne
I had you once
and then had you lost
as if you were never meant to be
only mine.
II
Sweet lady Anne
how you could
make your lips glow
and bind your auburn hair
at times in a bow.
III
And, lady Anne
who else could make sparks jump
between the two of us
and knew me better
than I myself.
IV
When, lady Anne
your lips met mine
they were much sweeter than wine
and passion raged for much more
but life swept you away
sweet lady Anne.
V
Ay, lady Anne
how swift has life passed us bye
and years is spent
and time just went on its own way
and you were a fine wife
to someone else,
VI
but lady Anne
the things that lie between
the two of us
remains as long
as our lives last.
VII
Dear lady Anne
my heart still in a way
belongs to you
and at times I dream about
days long gone
and I wonder if you
remember me too?
poem by Gert Strydom

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The Fury Of Abandonment
Someone lives in a cave
eating his toes,
I know that much.
Someone little lives under a bush
pressing an empty Coca-Cola can against
his starving bloated stomac,
I know that much.
A monkey had his hands cut off
for a medical experiment
and his claws wept.
I know tht much.
I know that it is all
a matter of hands.
Out of the mournful sweetness of touching
comes love
like breakfast.
Out of the many houses come the hands
before the abandonment of the city,
out of hte bars and shops,
a thin file of ants.
I've been abandoned out here
under the dry stars
with no shoes, no belt
and I've called Rescue Inc. -
that old-fashioned hot line -
no voice.
Left to my own lips, touch them,
my own nostrils, shoulders, breasts,
navel, stomach, mound,kneebone, ankle,
touch them.
It makes me laugh
to see a woman in this condition.
It makes me laugh for America and New York city
when your hands are cut off
and no one answers the phone.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Anne Sexton

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Bianca
Her cheeks are hot, her cheeks are white;
The white girl hardly breathes to-night,
So faint the pulses come and go,
That waken to a smouldering glow
The morbid faintness of her white.
What drowsing heats of sense, desire
Longing and languorous, the fire
Of what white ashes, subtly mesh
The fascination of her flesh
Into a breathing web of fire?
Only her eyes, only her mouth,
Live, in the agony of drouth,
Athirst for that which may not be:
The desert of virginity
Aches in the hotness of her mouth.
I take her hands into my hands,
Silently, and she understands;
I set my lips upon her lips;
Shuddering to her finger-tips
She strains my hands within her hands.
I set my lips on hers; they close
Into a false and phantom rose;
Upon her thirsting lips I rain
A flood of kisses, and in vain;
Her lips inexorably close.
Through her closed lips that cling to mine,
Her hands that hold me and entwine,
Her body that abondoned lies,
Rigid with sterile ecstasies,
A shiver knits her flesh to mine.
Life sucks into a mist remote
Her fainting lips, her throbbing throat;
Her lips that open to my lips,
And, hot against her finger-tips,
The pulses leaping in her throat.
poem by Arthur Symons

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Such a sweet addiction...
Each time I see you you steal my breath away,
I am frozen in your eyes, a slave to your heart,
I have become a beggar in my own dungeon,
Such a sweet submission gladly I give in to you,
My heart now pounding through my chest,
Fighting for air the burning becomes unbearable,
Your lips touch mine and you breathe life back into me,
The most exquisite drink to ever pass my lips,
Without you my sole would surely shrivel and die,
You are such a sweet addiction...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer

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A Forgetful Number
Once upon a time there was a number
Pure and round like the sun
But alone very much alone
It began to reckon with itself
It divided multiplied itself
It subtracted added itself
And remained always alone
It stopped reckoning with itself
And shut itself up in its round
And sunny purity
Outside were left the fiery
Traces of its reckoning
They began to chase each other through the dark
To divide when they should have multiplied themselves
To subtract when they should have added themselves
That's what happens in the dark
And there was no one to ask it
To stop the traces
And to rub them out.
Trans. Anne Pennington
poem by Vasko Popa

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