One Hundred and Ninety Nine.
This poem from Holan
is for you.
whom I have looked upon
and seen rarely.
For the all the times we did not see each other passing by,
in the dead of the winter,
heads buried in jacket collars.
For all the times we held somebody else’s hand,
in the intersection,
on the way to home.
For you catching the bus and me biking with words blossoming in my mouth
For me sleeping ’till noon and you getting your coffee at 7AM.
For the times we have held the same coffee mug in the same cafe
in different times.
(And feeling the warmth of coffee on your soft hands)
For never knowing you, yet loving you –
Vladimir Holan –
Meeting in a Lift
We stepped into the lift. The two of us, alone
We looked at each other and that was all.
Two lives, a moment, fullness, bliss.
At the fifth floor she got out and I went on up
knowing I would never see her again,
that it was a meeting once and for all,
that if I followed her I would be like a dead man in her tracks
and that if she came back to me
it would only be from the other world.