MISA CRIOLA
– holy music –
From hear I hear with delight
the harmonious and meaningful epistles of the sun
when rising and setting.
If you change the angle of view
noon will turn to night.
A wall will rise on the horizon.
On the wall we’ll draw a window
then open it
and practice tunes according to our fantasy.
Kyrie, Gloria. Credo.
Entities aiming at you
but dense and navigable.
Alarming for the springs.
A lake with the colour of love
that one should desert.
No room for it on the wall.
What year is it? 1939 or 1943?
The ovulations of mood
are registered on a chart.
What is once desired turns to danger.
The inside temperature is measured anally.
Visits are obligatory.
The innocent are deported: eternal present.
You wake me up.
The transition from the womb to the throat is ritualistic.
Adultery is natural.
A pie sprinkled with water after baking.
The steam, the mist – a bed-time story
us, though, it motivates.
We forget about fresco painting
and the chronology of events.
The plot becomes thirsty.
"Unearthly evening," you say.*
* - Allusion to the book by Marina Tzvetaeva
Translated by Zoran Anchevski
