Carousel And Gioconda Poem by Jüri Talvet

The carousel had horses
and we ourselves pushed it
around under the pavilion.
(Was Carousel the name of your childhood street
or simply of your childhood?)

The carousel, as you now read,
was not only riding horses:
panoplied knights
threw each other with bleeding spears
under the smirking glance of Gioconda.
(Under the sun that with the same weariness
observed them before us.)

Spears pierced childhood.

Now you are yourself a spearman on a carousel.
A motor moves the horses
and gives orders to your hand.
(Gioconda the avatar
laughs her mad laughter.)