The Summer Left His Children Behind Poem by Milan Pavol Kolesik

Just sitting in the backyard, observing the sun and kissing the corpses of death wild bees.
Oh, how I love the Saturday mornings!
The time is going on a long walk, so I decided to open a bottle of french wine.
Oh, how I love to breath the odor of cork oaks!
Just sitting in the backyard, preparing the funeral of my noisy friends and drinking wine.
A very good one.
Then I saw the sunrise – a big pomegranate of god Ra, trying to climb the horizon.
A very nice view.
Just sitting in the backyard, tasting the newborn sunshine, while wine starts to speak –
His Excellence, the Great Master of Story-telling, started
teacher's voice alike whispering, while my glassed eyes slowly welcomed the bitter darkness of sleep –
How easy is to forget the one you once loved, oh, how easy!
The Mind-blowing Master of mine, how much truth you found in that wine!

And you, my lovely darling, just wait for a second and let me imagine
the sweetness of your hair
(simply can't miss a chance to love their golden shine)
the sweetness of your forehead
(which reminds me a cold diamonds-like frozen lake)
the sweetness of your eyes
(two shining boats, full of care, returning from faraway lands)
the sweetness of your nose
(which reminds me the bridges of famous Firenze)
the sweetness of your lips
(allowed to touch, forbidden to kiss)
the sweetness of your throat
(hidden by colorful scarfs full of dots or stripes)
the sweetness of your breast
(allowed to kiss, forbidden to touch)
the sweetness of your...
... surprised face...
the sweetness of your blood,
of your slowly melting life,
while I petrified your corpse
using the steel of a knife.

Time wouldn't make it fine.
The grave is already done,
but the moon-like white bride remains.
Bees died, when they tried to make her alive.
I died, while watching it,
and repeated the truth of french wine –
How easy is to forget the one you once loved, oh, how easy!