One day,
I looked out
into the blazing light
and I saw this car,
...
You're flown away
every night, in every dark,
out the four shadows,
out the window…
...
Who can sing
the windy desert
in which the cliffs fell down
in which the lofty stars went out
...
Therefore, there was no cobblestone,
but I could barely dare to tell you,
to look at the mud,
and the overgrown dust on the walls -
...
A License Not To Drive
One day,
I looked out
into the blazing light
and I saw this car,
tired
like an old bird
doing ancient stretching,
and
there -
somehow -
waiting
on the side
of a winding road.
One night,
I looked out,
into the deep dark
and I saw,
like, strangely,
a reflection -
the car was
eager to stride,
like a child
chasing
a red balloon
on a wide, green field -
oh, how it almost,
nearly reminded me -
how it never went,
how it never met,
how it never felt
the colors it left
to rust
away.
Out in the evening,
but a bucket
to water the road
with shimmering rain.