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**It’s been three weeks:**I’m writing you from this corner like the last time/it is true that it is cold this season/it’s been three weeks since I met a young girl/ I’d her eyes swept me off my feet/that last trip was not to run away from home/ even if it’s far awayI dream of going back/for I am always thinking of you/don’t I have forgotten you allbut it’s not easy to express my feelings/Now early in the morning I catch the westbound train across stony, forsaken land across the oldest of routes/life often shows us what is and what is not/even if it never did me a rough turn today it’s treating fine/I try, but for days on end my heart is usually sad/I couldn’t fulfil that promise I have made/for I am singing “Loriak udan” don’t get me wrong, not too much/I still haven’t forgotten the words I can remember so much/

These words:I’ve waited 20 years to be born into this world/It was on a starry night with a cloud in between/The Gypsy at the fair with her waist and buxom build/her fine hands aroused my senses/And we both lay down/under the stars which looked down upon us/and for a moment she was mine/I’m writing these words as a testament so that my children will know who their father was/In the town so fond of nicknames I was called “Zerraldo” (Coffin)/they were wrong, so very wrong/Wine permitting I loved her/like any other girl like any/these words .../

In the light of day: Enemy of darknesswafting by day/your fragrance lingers from last night’s delight/Above in the sky two clouds go, oh sun, still higher/I only wish wish to sing to you./The fields are in splendid bloom/It is not springtime that I await but for when autumn is to come/The wind, always athirst sways the ash trees/these hands wish to praise your soft skin/The hedgehog at the entrance in search of the spring/because I love you, my dear I need to drink with you/The carnation has joined the nettles until summer/if you were not so shy you would undress/night is creeping along/there are enough reasons/though I know you love me tell me again/

At the Vegetarian Restaurant:Both of us stepped into a restaurant, at noon, on Monday, with a menu, and a smorgasbord option/some spinach, some green lasagna, and some apple pie to top it off/all of a sudden, a crowd comes in, six of them, and behind them some dark figures/They showed them the door and us, together with them, afraid to touch each other./with their legs wide open and against the Opel Corsa, unable to stop fondling,/The young people on the ground, quiet and sweating,, books in a corner/16, 17, on that day, they got a taste of the dust in the street and the spinach was getting cold, and fondling everywhere/”And your papers?” thank God I didn’t forget and leave them at home “And your papers”?, no vegetables, these are into flesh/A long quarter of an hour, the shadows lenthening, what great passion, total impotence, to feel from so near/what could have been your neighbour, you subjugate, how oh how could impotence rivet disdain in your memory/The days have gone by, and I should forget everything, time heals everything/Now we’re going to the Mexican restaurant, there you can dine in peace with mariachi music this story was an isolated fact in a landscape full of sadness,/ how,oh how impotence, once felt, gets easier as you go./”and your papers?”

In mature arms he sways:A seven-year old smirk a hitherto unimaginable event/he’s swaying in mature arms putting a brake to an uncertain future/The child is full of momentsmade up of fast-moving images/and they slide along, slide along and all are building up inside./Standing up, with his soul a-swaying the split shadow cast by a child/as a result of an uncertain stroke of luck like those marked at birth/inside there is seething that will do you in/pleasure overcomes all senses in an attempt to get around what might come unaware of the inevitable fate./At the moment when surprises, remorse/come together to fully make sense beyond mere curiosity in view of penetrating stares/A chapter in the story of an evening/pleasure overcomes all senses/it’s enough to dump poison in your veins/it’s enough to dump poison in your veins/
br> On Christmas Eve:On Christmas eve I undressed I clinked the glasses and celebrated the heat with champagne and spent Christmas even in the street/Rob the elderly woman/beat her husband up, how easy,find pleasure in money/Christmas Eve at the policestation/wake up nervous and blind in the morning/search your memory for tender moments and unable to get a grip, unable to search,and unable to lose yourself in memories/but you’ve made me happy Uptight and unable to relieve the itching/thirsty and all sweaty/I down a nine point o Tennent’swhile in my head it is nine thousand point o/Father in the wardrobe, Mother on the mattress/brothers and sisters on the clothes rack/I am on the clothes stand, ready to fall I’ve forgotten who grandpa was/But you’ve made me happy/Four seasons have gone by unable to stop sweating/spending Christmas Eve in the streetand unable to lose yourself in memories./But you’ve made me happy/

The writer:The writer looks at wate/some gusty wind keeps on blowing outlining a tune on the waves/he reads on the surface of the water/he sharpens the bile of the verses/the sound of the dancers’ footsteps in the air, on water/The writer clad in leather/scribbles away with his quill looking at the water/my dear, the glimmer of memories/In need, as in pain/the clinking of money when we need it/you are owed a song my friend, in compensation./



At the Foot of Lekanda:Anguished at the foot of Lekanda The wolves how/even if we are one people I see two worlds/In Estarta the fox is no longer fooled/one person’s lie is another’s truth/the mice scurrying back and forth have cleaned out the loft/the big thieves are out in the street and the small fry are locked up/It’s the teapot calling the kettle black until when are we going to be tugging at the bell tolling the death knell?/In the country the cuckoo goes cuckoo and the cock goes cockle-doodle-doo/when we have to do the same why are we speechless?The glede bird is in the fig tree and the cat by the fire/when is the one who is far away going to be next to the one he loves?/I would like to live in peace among the animals in a free country unfettered by anyone/Some rumbling amid the clouds/some geese are flying away/if they could take away our sorrows and tears/.Dead leaves are falling and falling in the street/under our eyes the wind is banging against the window/and the leaves are falling and falling/

I took your hand:
Today we ran across each other/like so many other days you were sitting there/I was walking down the street/you don’t look the same as you usually do/that sad look in those eyes, is that usually the case?/Today I’ve come to be next to you/to accompany you./”Don’t you have, my son, anything else to do?/I’m on my way to see my friends I’m in no hurry/you told me that you yourself has friends to dance with/and the years went by unnoticed/”go on, young man, don’t waste your time on me”/.I took your hand Good morning, grandma/how’s it going today with the lady in our neighbourhood?/the past is present on her wrinkled face/not a word, a gesture to call me over/with that smileyou’ve said it all/Yesterday with eight-five years under your belt/who would say in seeing you so nice/that your grandson has paid you a visit today but you've gotan appoinment with life../look grandma, how pretty the clear sky is./Guardianof time and as if happiness depended on it./ I kissed you, to, share some of it, with you/ so that you will smile at me we've agreed to play cards tomorrow/ if I win great, if I lose so much the better



An Engraving (making the world easier):An engraving on a sheet of copper with dancing figures/the world in a few short songs/His, a head of red hair light and golden -coloured/short songs, making the world easier/they loved for three years/The old, dark-coloured disc/pure notes sprinkled with dust/skipping from green to green/dreaming of when to go back/.

The Sweet Drink:My dear sirs, what a sweet drink one that can rouse the soul/let us drink our last swig before the door is closed/Our wives have stormed out cursing their names/let’s have one last one, my boys before the warning comes/we were not born to suffer in this world nor to care about our own/let us drink up, and be quick about it for hell awaits us/