15 To Tatiana
I died when I was thirty-seven
And now I sink into the flow.
I let all through
To get transparent --
I died together with van Gogh.
I let all go
Beneath the surface
To hear and see it all at once,
With lips sealed up by flowing water --
My hands don't touch,
My legs don't run.
My voice can't sound within the chorus,
I don't wake up in morning dreams
To know that things are only
Drawings
Upon the cover of
Abyss.
|