you are taking the armour of the day
from yourself
and you are already other man
you are intoxicated with sparks
of silver stars
you want to howl sometimes as the wolf
to the pale moon
to wander the roof as the sleepwalker
or to dream...
about night backstreets
where the small cafes
full of stifling thick air
with the smoke and mists of alcohol
and the girls are showing red garters
at night human shadows
are circulating along city streets
lamp posts are dispelling
all doubts hidden
in corners of the darkness
everything has other shape
and the dimension...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very good poem. Interesting written. I like it.