For Oleg Fomin
The forest keeps the secret, which is meek;
The meeting with him it is what you seek;
Under the fir-tree hides he free and chaste,
His ancient testament remains his taste
And suddenly aspires without the wing
Boletus Edulis, our kindred king.
You lean against his lineage, you enjoy
Your ancestor, your offspring, who is coy;
In twilight you have seen his dusky hue,
But his luxuriant flesh transfigures you;
You are delighted, you forget to greet
Your counterpart; so you together eat
One another, and you are not loth;
Your eating is love-making for you both
Your ancestor is young, your offspring old;
You are one flesh with king, his flesh is gold.
The secret resurrection: if you see
Him in the forest, who are you, but he?
17.08.2000.
The secret of resurrection
© Copyright: Владимир Микушевич, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112110610848
Свидетельство о публикации №112110610848
Рецензии
Maybe some important circumstances are outside of the poem...
Николай Старорусский 07.11.2012 10:06 • Заявить о нарушении
Николай Старорусский 07.11.2012 10:06 • Заявить о нарушении
Outside of the poem is the univers, which is the poem too, maybe the same poem as you know yourself.
Владимир Микушевич 07.11.2012 22:59 Заявить о нарушении
Владимир Микушевич 07.11.2012 22:59 Заявить о нарушении