RED ANGEL FROM KÖNIGSBERG
the neglected travelers
from the book of discarded kings
in Königsberg and Kaliningrad
with a flag at half-mast
from a secret corner
in your backstage
and all the letters in an old russianprussian book
in a moment become green
Yesterday I met
that he had just
risen from the grave.
He was sitting in a deserted park
on the bench
and fed the pigeons.
He strictly looked at me:
Do you already know a multiplication table by heart?
In back a gypsy music was playing
the forgotten melodies.
Diddle-doodle, you're right, said the father.
However, multiplication table. And Mitzy Smith drank up but paid not.
This has not! Of cours!
Three women were leaping macabrely
between tulips and roses
prophesying from botany.
The landscape wrapped itself in colorful skirts.
I am on the life-threatening point, my son,
he said, and grimaced.
Why did you leave without a word
and why didn't you show me the secret tower
with Hardheaded and little Maggy?
In this case, I would have easily died,
and mountain which I have to climb up
would be achievable.
Will I in this impudent land
of Seven Lipizzaner horses and One-hundred-twenty vipers
find my last peace?
Will open itself the sky
of a gentle guardian angel?
Namely, fathers did not yet renounce
the tempting visions.
Therefore, the sea is an unexpected slap in the face,
it sinks in the sky, happy forever.
In doing so, it seems that my finger
is a blind residue of the ancient evolution.
At the sun glows a threatening handwriting
from the ruffled scales of an antediluvian lizard.
Translated from Slovenian by Ivo Antich