Friday, April 16, 2010

Bicycles
for V. Bokov

The bicycles lie
In the woods, in the dew.
Between the birch trees
The highroad gleams.

They fell, fell down
Mudguard to Mudguard,
handlebar to handlebar
Pedal to pedal

And you can't
Wake them up!
Petrified monsters,
Their chains entwined.

Huge and surprised
They stare at the sky.
Above them, green dusk
Resin, and bumblebees.

In the luxurious
Rustling of camomile, peppermint
Leaves they lie. Forgotten,
Asleep. Asleep.


Translated by Anselm Hollo