Vasko Popa Poems

Don't box down to the little box
Which supposedly contains everything
Your star and all other stars
...

Don't open the little box
Heaven's hat will fall out of her

Don't close her for any reason
...

Just come to my mind
My thoughts will scratch out your face

Just come into my sight
...

From the wrinkle between my brows
You watch till day breaks
On my face
...

Get out of my walled infinity
Of the star circle round my heart
Of my mouthful of sun
...

Enough chattering violets enough sweet trash
I won't hear anything know anything
Enough enough of all
...

Green gloves rustle
On the avenue's branches

The evening carries us under its arm
...

The nights are running out of darkness

Steel branches grasp
The arms of passers-by
...

We'll return the little box
Into the arms
Of her inconspicuously honest properties
...

Until her last breath she enlarges
Her Oxford house
Built in Slavonic
Vowels and consonants
...