The Daylight of History

/, Blesok no. 89/The Daylight of History

The Daylight of History

White Star Whitely Bright
The Daylight of History
Shadows of Verdi’s Requiem
Little Hana Brajdova’s Suitcase
A Sisterly Tear Jar
No Rain, No Sunshine After the Rain
Affluence for Hire

Even before we came here
We knew the past for what it is
While dreaming of freeing the future from the clutches of peril

In the middle of the field of broken wings
Trembles the poplar tree, a warning right out of history
Right out of a Bertolt Brecht poem

Here, memories claim their permanence:
They are written into the victims’ glances
They are read without a lamp, by the daylight of history

During the early morning rubbing of the eyes
Some memories become musical
Like the eternal trembling of the Laba poplars

Thoughts wind up
The childhood music boxes
Filled by silent sounds

The silence weighs down
Sometimes as a first glance between lovers
Sometimes as a parting sigh accompanied by darkness

The silence almost always
Is the starting point of a return to self:
Marked by bits of anger and hope, marked by hope.

2018-08-21T17:22:45+00:00 May 9th, 2013|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 89|0 Comments