Thursday, December 13, 2018

Zoran Pešić Sigma writes

A Bed of Books

It's comfortable like cresset
for incense

until everything is burnt
there is no luck

there is no smell
there is no sacred curiosity

the past is always naive
like yellowing photography of
missed good intentions
the present     never harder time
just to survive
to the first future
until the first turn into a dream

in this bed
we cover ourselves with soft covers
we embrace the pillow in which
pleated naughty stories rustle

--tr. Danijela Trajković

 Related image
 La Liseuse de Romans (The Reader of Novels) -- Antoine Wiertz

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