Martin Vlado - Man of a Cloudy Day

the pathways I don't usually go through
lead from somewhere to somewhere

in language I don't speak of
is written:
everything can be read
from the eye's egg white

but if you don't understand an illness
don't wait
that it all will give itself up to you

strong desire to mud oneself
to sit down on the nearest grave
and to nod
although the name doesn't agree

but which dead
wouldn't belong to you
if you are swallowing
your clod of clay right now

"Your legs haven't seen the sun for a long time,"
I said to a dream.

"I'm a child of the night," she whispered.

"I'm a son of the shadows,
man of a cloudy day," I cried.

"I'm your woman," she added.

(First)
If you are begging,
beg silently,

because, so loudly, you can doubt
only about yourself.

(Second)
Light is approaching every day.

How can you believe It,
when your days
and nights
are irradiated by sun?

(Last)
I'm walking along the shore
like the sun along the sky.
Water is made-up. Needle from heart
pinches me in the shoe.

It knows what I will do
when the bridge comes to me one day.
If it is true that we all are afraid,
I will name it

a village fool
has his whims flies
butterflies

and god's little cows

he burns their wings
because the wings
carry sadness

and he is nicely smiling
by ears

always when I come home
and notice him
close to church

or even sooner

I have been sitting here since morning
sober
and without cigarettes

since morning
you have been calling the names
of your dead brothers

you are not with them yet
you are already not with us

they are preparing the place
by the eternal table for you

first day
you will have John on the right
Andrew on the left

hey headwaiter
don't pressure me to drink up
and don't switch off

until I know everything

nobody wanders
and nobody will

because all the roads are dusty
also those paved and shining
after the rain

on which you are waiting so much