Congratulations! Your support has been successfully sent to the author
Small Blue Poem About Compassion

Small Blue Poem About Compassion

Published Jan 29, 2024 Updated Jan 29, 2024 Culture
time 1 min
1
Love
0
Solidarity
0
Wow
thumb 0 comment
lecture 12 readss
1
reaction

On Panodyssey, you can read up to 30 publications per month without being logged in. Enjoy29 articles to discover this month.

To gain unlimited access, log in or create an account by clicking below. It's free! Log in

Small Blue Poem About Compassion

 

For Zsuzsa Magyari’s exhibit titled LA DI DA

 

I would like to assure the trees

of my compassion,

for spending their lives

standing around in a daze,

 

the snow,

in its long game of moving

along blue velvet fields.

 

And the lilies of the valley,

who are born to remember

the present,

 

fragranced,

 

incessantly saying

that

actually, everything is okay.

 

I would like to assure the sea snapper

of my compassion,

which lies

washed ashore

in the rain

 

and is not happy.

 

The message I have is try not to not laugh

when you hear the question:

 

which is heavier

 

to free yourself from,

a hundred kilos of iron,

or a hundred kilos of feathers,

 

just think of the coziness

of sinking.

 

I would like to assure my face

of my compassion,

although we could not

understand each other

over so many years,

 

by now it somehow doesn’t matter,

 

when I think of it, I still

get flustered

about what I would say to it.

 

I would like to assure the ledge on top of the tower

of my compassion,

 

since it borders nothing.

 

I would like to assure the door

of my compassion, the one you walked out of,

now that I’ve

written everything about it,

 

I’d like to show it to you,

too bad you won’t come back

anymore

 

for my clumsy messages written on soft surfaces.

 

Without you soap simply smells

like soap.

 

I would like to assure the view behind the window

of my compassion,

while my gaze cuts through it like nail scissors,

beneath the deteriorating steps

of time.

 

A thick slice of sky with clouds, sun,

and geraniums for lunch.

 

The message I have is that I would still like to ask you questions,

but unfortunately,

all my curved punctuation marks ran out.

 

And I want to hum three melodies at once.

This is what they call silence.

 

---

Translated by Timea Sipos 

lecture 12 readings
thumb 0 comment
1
reaction

Comments (0)

Are you enjoying reading on Panodyssey?
Support their independent writers!

Prolong your journey in this universe Culture
Pulp Fiction
Pulp Fiction

  Pitch Deux truands, Jules  et Vincent, sont chargés de récupérer une mallet...

Valentine Simon
1 min

donate You can support your favorite writers