I will kill the chickens if the roses donโ€™t stop them

Lyrics belong to everyone

Not even by escaping can you avoid her heaviness

So do not rush to anywhere

Do not feel the abdomen of the dark with your fingers


Somebody will die during the first twilight

And I will write about comets

Deprive the bread in your hands

And prepare the ploughed land

For the dead of rosy lips to breathe


Sleep peacefully

I will counterfeit whatever is necessary

I will kill the chickens if the roses donโ€™t stop them


You find those who accused us


I persistently graze words

Day and night

First I seek them

Recognize them even among lizards

Who announce misfortune

And even though they are vainly

You want time and roads

And blue circles above the wellsprings of rapid rivers


You children of moonlight

I a lonely stalk

You memorized colours

You poets, which I am yet not


I the amorous Pan

Not knowing how to say wasteland on your language

Marked to sing I yearn for East

Where I could burn myself

And turn into a star

Like Quetzalcoatl*


(If I could onlyย  sway

for a moment

not even music is necessary)


*Quetzalcoatl โ€“ a mythical being of Toltec, originally a ruler and high priest, and later on a patron god. By the tale, he burned himself and became a star