Bezpiederīgie (1.)

Poem By Liāna Langa

Es pēkšņi atmodos no dziļa miega.
Starp krūmiem mežā mana ēna klīda.
Pie miglas trauka piekļāvuši purnus,
simttūkstoš gadi valgmi kāri zīda.


Kā liela, slapja zaļās tējas lapa
man acīs debess iepeldēja, šaurums
to nebiedēja. Zvaigžņu kuģi
pie manis pieglaudās, pie vraka.


Es nezināju, ko man zvēri teiks,
un nesapratu, kādēļ viesi klusē.
Es biju tava atslēga, jauns vīns,
ko dievbijīgie melnās mucās spundē.


Kad tumsa transā dvesmoja un šķīda,
man vaibstos metot atblāzmas no citām,
vēl citām pagājībām, citām dzīvēm,
tad manī liela daļa manis mira.


Es pēkšņi atmodos no dziļa miega,
man sejā tavi krusas graudi koda.
Kāds pūces valodā man blakus teica dievs,
un bija tukša, tukša tava roka.

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Other poems of LANGA

The Ones Who Don't Belong 1.

I wake suddenly from deep sleep.
In the forest's undergrowth my shadow roams.
Hundred-thousand-year greedy muzzles suck
moisture clinging to a vessel of mist.

The Ones Who Don't Belong 2.

Leaves frost-bitten by a harsh night rustle between my fingers.
A rook siddles closer
to a cross painted mud-colour. A white pebble thrown against
the cheap granite slab summons an echo

The Ones Who Don't Belong 3.

You say to me - summer? Stop! Too much of glowing flesh, glassy
grey light on eyelids, the odour of decaying melons. Maybe
a movie, ditam, ditam? Dipetti, dipetti, perhaps to the Antarctic?
Don't be angry. Escape heals, but only for a space of time, just until

The Ones Who Don't Belong 4.

Come, life's winter! In a corner of a window ledge a titmouse
pecks at a bit of bacon
whiter than the city's snow. Lemon yellow sunbeam bagpipes
tangle in tree branches sounding funeral marches. Racing clouds

The Ones Who Don't Belong 5.

A roadside garden queen boards the train Aizkraukle - Riga.
She's wearing rubber boots, a grey moustache
above a chapped mouth.

The Ones Who Don't Belong 6.

Farewell, homo mediocris! We dream and sleep still among roe
subtly rose. So slow their movement, so sticky. As if someone
will come shortly to glue our transparent flesh together.
We can do it ourselves! Just the water doesn't permit it,

Maya Angelou

Phenomenal Woman