Tonight my mother was born

Her infant cry
filed our house
at the outskirts

bathed and so clean
I wrapped her
in a diaper
and laid her in a crab

from the corner I brought
toys
blew twice
into a small plastic trumpet

Made the black wooden horse rock

Translated by Charles Simic

A feather plucked from the tail
of the Fiery Hen

Let them rest peacefully in ice.
I’m never coming back
to my native mountains
trees, mists.
I don’t give a damn about
forest clearings, mushrooms, wise weasels,
ditches full of last year’s snow.

I don’t care about wild pigeons.

I’m the Fiery Hen,
I sing at mid/day
lost in the crowd on the square.

My long pole is my home.

Lord, I’m so glad
to be so rich,
to be so ridiculous.

I see everything with my round eyes.

Oh I’m both dread and happy disposition,
conflagration over all things.
Under my fire/wing
lies the mad world.

I’m the fire that gives the Egg its shape.
I’m the fire that shapes.
I’m fire.

I’m the fiery scold.
The first monster.
The queen of terror
on whose every feather
burns one living
monstrous image.
Queen of dread.
Fear at mid/day,
scream,
panic and flutter.

Cramp and light.
Between tearing sounds
the one tearing sound.
The deaf and mute sign
on the frightened mouth.
Golden talon,
golden will,
golden beak.
A beak
that nightly
drinks the slumbering
brains.
Feathers, bones,
and blood that
flies.

Song to the lamb

Lamb indestructible lamb
You who loaded with crystal crossed mountain
Lamb from the most distant cave
Lamb who peed on the black stones
Yo-yo turning on the highest rock
Lamb with fleece of bones
In the deepest night
You who beat among the oldest trees
Lamb who remembers
Lamb grazing and browsing the human brain
Lamb who imagined the blue sky
Lamb of all the firmaments
Lamb who makes the open eyes open again
Lamb with deepest waters
In your burning eyes
Lamb indestructible lamb

Lamb of dark forest
With a wreath of needles in your fleece
Lamb of juniper bush
With a purple berry in your hoof
Lamb with snowballs of last year snow on your back
Lamb with white teeth O long-logged Lamb
Who will kill me

Terrifying lamb
You dug for me tonight an appropriate grave
in the midst of the world
Where you’ll settle down finally settle down
The way your tongue settles down between my jaws
Accurately settles down

Antipsalm

Disfigure me, Lord. Take pity on me.
Cover me with bumps. Reward me with boils.
In the fount of tears open a spring of pus mixed with blood.
Twist my mouth upside down. Give me a hump. Make me crooked.
Let moles burrow through my flesh. Let blood
circle my body. Let it be thus.
May all that breathes steal breath from me,
all that drinks quench its thirst in my cup.
Turn all vermin upon me.
Let my enemies gather around me
and rejoice, honoring You.

Disfigure me, Lord. Take pity on me.
Tie every guilt around my ankles.
Make me deaf with noise and delirium. Uphold me
above every tragedy.
Overpower me with dread and insomnia. tear me up.
Open the seven seals, let out the seven beasts.
Let each one graze my monstrous brain.
Set upon me every evil, every suffering,
every misery. Every time you threaten,
point you finger at me. Thus, thus, my Lord.
Let my enemies gather around me
And rejoice, honoring You.

I ask

is the
dinner
ready

I ask
someone who
behind my back
in the nonexistent room
rearranges
the plates

Translated by Charles Simic