The Home Page of Ana Pejcinova

T h e  B e a s t  A n d  T h e  L i m p i d (1999)
 
 
 

BLAST


1. The Day prevails.
A black rock, naked,
Lights up at dawn.

Quiet like the Nothingness
Budding in its seed,
Silence listens
To what stirs inside:
A sword struggles to break out,
Each eye, pierced by the blade,
Grows up in terror.

The Mountain throbs, brattles,
Crashes the arc with its peek.
And Sky pours down
Over slopes, cliffs.
One Crevice alone
Holds the World up.

If you look at it,
Death come over you:
With its long fields
It enchants your breath.


2. The Day is crippled in the hands.
Everything blind
Grows a world apart there.
I will wave, I will wave…
What darkness the body is made of?
The hand of dark
Knocks at the Rock.
At daytime It is blind,
Yet howls at night:
With voice full of stones
It pulls down the heights.

Nightly teeth bite more bitterly.
Nighttime is the day of the ghosts.
Strangled with a knot of silence,
We tumble in a chorus of sparks,
We eat shiverings left by death.

A horde of dreams
Smashes the heights.
The bravest dream
Pierces into the Sun
From the throne of my tooth.

3. Terror raises castles.

Inside a blind stone
A terror kneels
Whispering secrets
To the foundations:
From stone to stone
It weaves defense
Of clandestine speech
The Terror only can hear.

Thus an invisible castle
By secret murmurs
Is held together.

Who can break through
The Sound that is not,
Who can turn the gaze
Toward that blazing blast?

Yet the invisible words are Gates
That will let a Plague burst forth,
A volcano of black light
Will deny the World.

Thus
Day raises Night
To splendor.


4. Golden Plague
from the Void Mountain;
all in madness falls apart.
The City burns from crevices,
It is already gone, deserted.
Nobody climbs the Hill of Gold,
No-one to incantate the Sun,
Nor Darkness is there
To drink up the blast.

Wind crackles in fissures,
Fingers rustle with no wind.

For mercy’s sake
I arm myself with evil,
And the World rises again
Out of cracked branches
Of crevices
Nothing is visible.
Place your root in Nothingness.
Only a Void-One
Can hold the World up,
Can resist this blast.

Loving illness
Can change love to ill.

 

 

 

 

First World
Sun Gate
Sun Serpent

The Beast
Peace For The Beast

New Home
Nightly Home
Oblivion

Death For Noah
The Song And The Knife
Volcano
On The Blade

Departure Of The Toll
Blast

Afghan Journals - Blog

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