Airports. Hotels.
Stations. Motels.
I’m sick of searching;
Like spinning tyres,
Repetition tires.
The night’s like a huge closed cage.
Insomnia saps my nerves.
Crazy age!
Mad rhythms!
A desperate cry tears the world,
A desperate cry:
“Enough of this whirl!” –
Somewhere between the sky
And the earth by somebody hurled.
On my lips is the bitter, stale taste of steel.
Someone still begs for love
As if for bread – still!
That begging burns mind and soul –
What you used to have – you’ve given it all,
Though maybe not quite in time.
Maybe sometimes it was out of place.
You gave it away like small change,
Scattered through space.
You look at the night;
It doesn’t get light.
Something like bell-chimes around you sounds;
In the night something pounds and pounds and pounds.
Alas! The bell doesn’t yet chime for you.
Tortured, you’ll have to search,
To repeat it all anew.
Again hotels,
Airports, motels.
Translated by Dorian Rottenberg
VieŁ¡buÄiai. Aerouostai.
Ir stotys.
Nusibodo ieŁ¡koti.
Nusibodo kartotis.
Naktis kaip didŁ¾iulis uŁ¾daras narvas.
Nualino nemiga Ł¡irdį ir nervus.
BeprotiŁ¡kas amŁ¾ius. BeprotiŁ¡kas ritmas.
PlÄ—Ł¡o pasaulį beviltiŁ¡kas riksmas:
– Tylos ir ramybÄ—s! –
KaŁ¾kur tarp dangaus
Ir tarp Ł¾emÄ—s pakibęs.
Ant lŁ«pŁ³ sustingęs aitrus plieno skonis.
KaŁ¾kas dar maldauja
MeilÄ—s kaip duonos.
Maldavimai degina Ł¡irdį ir protą, –
Tai, ką turÄ—jai – seniai atiduota.
GalbŁ«t ne laiku,
Gal kartais ne vietoj
Atidavei viską
Kaip smulkią monetą.
Spoksai į naktį.
Aplinkui neŁ¡vinta.
KaŁ¾kur tarsi varpo skambÄ—jimas sklinda.
Nakty aidi dŁ«Ł¾iai skardŁ«s ir skvarbŁ«s.
Deja,
Tai ne tau dar skambina varpas.
ReikÄ—s vÄ—l ieŁ¡koti,
Kankintis, kartotis.
VÄ—l vieŁ¡buÄiai.
Aerouostai. Ir stotys.
