Thursday, June 1, 2017




Auschwitz could be anywhere.
Plans and ideas are waiting in people's minds.
It only needs time and a little barbed wire.
It is enough to close the sky above the earth,
Extinguish hopes, break the rainbow.
Atomic suns will brighten again
with burning rays of death.
Choking dust of hatred will blow in everywhere.
The sown wind will stir up the sandy storms.
The Great War about everything and about nothing.
Losers, winners


Mother spread a carpet on the fertile ground,
by the damp ribbon of a stream.
Woven of many shapes and colors,
on the canvas of sun’s golden rays,
in seeds and rhizomes it stores
the memory of the beauty of past years.

In the morning,
the eyes of flowers moistened by dew,
intensely flash with all colors
like small pieces of stained glass in church windows.
The evening subtly paints the landscape over
with interplay of light and shadow, and adds a shade of gray.

The garden abides by the laws of nature,
its heart beating to the pace of the seasons.
Both subject to the will of man and independent,
variable in its unbridled beauty,
constantly evades the reign of the creator – the gardener.


Emptiness and relief.
I feel almost nothing.

A swarm of compulsive thoughts flew away.
Like small insects
they intruded everywhere.
I have no hope, no joy, no fear.

Dead stars shine above me
and the moon phases repeat every month.
I observe the metamorphosis of the universe.

I am a jot of living matter
and I change with the cycles of nature,
I submit to the passing time.

I hold on to the thin thread of life.
When it snaps I will leave for the unknown destination.
I will cross the threshold of mortality without fear


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