• Chapel B

    Instead of the somber grace to live
    understand what a mean joy dying is... more »

  • Dying Is Strange

    The one night I got to spend enjoying spring
    would have to be the one I hit the dirt,
    though the dew had turned green earlier,
    much greener than anything that spring.... more »

  • From A Misty Autumn Morning

    I never loved the earth.
    I meant to leave it
    to its loneliness.... more »

  • In Dying

    Now I draw one timeless hour aside
    black Maria In coalmines they dig up coal
    to bury their hair Maria Death walks there
    stalking the men Maria Ordering them to rest... more »

  • In Mourning

    Right at seven that morning
    right then at seven a.m.
    it was that morning at seven
    death had to have homage shown.... more »

  • In Triumph

    And death won't be won over.
    Dead men don't turn back
    once their elbows prop rubble,
    with the north moon's north eye... more »

  • Jurek

    I would lift your body into the crown of a green tree
    if I had a tree
    greening.... more »

  • Lithuania

    Soon, I will be no more,
    soon, I will go to sleep:
    My country is winter,
    my country is midnight,... more »

  • Of Little Faith

    we will never find anything:
    neither earth nor spring
    written up in green letters.... more »

  • Talk About The Dead Being Born

    Here's one place torture broke down.
    I frown and am reassured
    God is on our side.
    Gott mit uns.... more »

  • The Drowned Woman

    You ached for you own river:
    to fold your clothes on the shore
    and play with the water - naked.... more »

  • Untitled #1

    Green all green
    as I want the green
    to cover a fading pale
    bathos of birch
    in the coarse homespun
    of a northern moon.... more »

  • Untitled #2

    The voice of a continent prays for explorers
    the voice of a continent cries out for adventure.
    Round as water, salty as it is,
    I raise the season of death to my lips.... more »

  • Untitled #2

    The voice of a continent prays for explorers
    the voice of a continent cries out for adventure.
    Round as water, salty as it is,
    I raise the season of death to my lips.... more »

  • Untitled #3

    Maria was made for sex
    Maria emerging from truth
    Maria's the black
    this blood
    foam floats up on its crest... more »

  • Untitled #4

    It's not to go to sleep we gather
    in sleeping quarters,
    or to pour a dream together we carry
    sand in on our bodies.... more »

  • Untitled #5

    Tomorrow we go see you off
    into the peaceful realm of the dead.
    For now, we talk a whip-notched
    language about to die out.... more »

  • Untitled #6

    Our exile fading
    is our language fading.
    Zhilvin, oh Zhilvin please:
    there's no colour to the breaking foam.... more »

  • Variations On A Theme Of An Ironic Dream

    Your dream was round and soft:
    it will raise your body from space
    so you will more perfectly dream
    the taste of the orange.... more »