Milan Děžinský

Your white, violin body,
against which the moon shines
...

Full moon again, nightwatch,
midnight awe,
that exists an intangible outline,
and those who dare
...

Maybe, somewhere in a storm,
she stands on a terrace looking into the rain,
the storm blazes in her, the ocean rough
in her blood was first prophesied, when still
...

Always pursued by night,
gripped by her moist skin,
itching like prolonged virginity,
that the astronomer is closest to a poet,
...

Tongue in closed mouth bouncing
off the walls as if locked
...