Total Strangers

Those beautiful days

when the city resembles a die, a fan and a bird song

or a scallop shell on the seashore

- goodby, goodbye, pretty girls,

we met today

and will not ever meet again.

The beautiful Sundays

when the city resembles a football, a card and an ocarina

or a swinging bell

- in the sunny street

the shadows of passers-by were kissing

and people walked away, total strangers.

Those beautiful evenings

when the city resembles a rose, a chessboard, a violin

or a crying girl

- we played dominoes,

black-dotted dominoes with the thin girls in the bar,

watching their knees,

which were emaciated

like two skulls with the silk crowns of their garters

in the desperate kingdom of love.

Gedicht: Jaroslav Seifert, Wet Picture

Foto: Rosa