Jan Skácel - Daughters of song
My night is the darkest
where morning begins
and the little birds' horror beneath the windows
starts in full wolume.
Then I get up
And deprived of the previous day
I go to the bathroom.
Going there I am ashamed among my furniture.
Once again I am only myself
robbed to such extent
that to eternity I hang on a thread.
Everything embarrassingly reminds me
that yesterday I was verbatim perpendicular.
Water sets me free for a moment
From the white porcelain with my nail
I scratch out a hair
Too much yours.
It is again bad, even worse.
But then I remember again
and drinking my coffee I recite the verses,
slowly, hardly, to make them sustain :
"On bird-twitter he gets up
and all doughters of song cry."
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