Small Blue Poem About Compassion
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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