Postby Seifert on Tue Oct 12, 2004 12:55 am

Wet Picture

Jaroslav Seifert (1986)

Those beautiful days
when the city resembles a die, a fan and a bird song
or a scallop shell on the seashore
- goodbye, 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.

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