1. Three Poems

Adieu

Evening.
A girl is standing on a sand chair
Her hands are floating to the distance.
In her horizon, maybe
A fisherman’s boat is sailing
Two seagulls are circling in the air
In an imaginary course


Evening.
The girl, her hands cutting the wind
Closes her eyes
Her golden hair is shed.
A yell of a seagull is being heard over
Murmurs of the soft waves
The sky is setting on the sand chair



The March

They approached, without any hesitance,
In clear and adamant steps,
In a constant and hypnotic rhythm,
Almost ritual.
At first I had seen few of them,
Then more, hundreds, thousands souls
Marching together towards the sea.
Their sparse hair waves in the wind,
Their gaze is glassy
And their walk is slow,
Standing next and behind
Each other in even rows.
I had seen them entering;
I had seen them disappearing
In the horizon,
The waves caressing them softly.
Then I understood- I will march like them,
I will disappear like them
On the end of the road,
Below the rustle of the caring waves.



Death Prelude

Parade of Stars;
A wounded tiger
Crawls over
A deep pond of mud
In a forever green forest.


The bottom reveals a picture:
A wounded tiger,
Perfect circle above.
Fist in water
Tries to catch the moon;
The water is reddened and blurred.


Is life a short
Death-Prelude?


The tiger falls asleep
As if dreaming a white dream
Maybe
A little star is born
Quietly shining
In an eternal black void