The Bridge

I came to tell you

The bridge had been demolished

The one with the beggars breathing at the edge of poetry

Built from the stony stars to shine above the water

Underneath which the shadows of suicidal Judas are being drowned

In thoughts humid nad heavy

Sinking the ships on the Danube

On the docks between two joints

And three offers for an unslept night

Insomnias are being cured by nightmares

It’s a shock therapy of a city breathing out

Ignat said and Sarah added

Life plays dirty especially on the bridges

When the shards are looking for a path to glass

With her words Sasha has made a window

(that’s how he mourns the bridge) he says

The best panes are made of shards

He will make a house out of the stones

For the streetwalkers who grew out of the residential habits

And he wonders whether the stones from the bridge

Will be recognized in the stones of the house

Will the stones know the bridge was just a break over the water

That its arches were a rare disease of the firmament

Will it remember the steps the cunning sound of silence

The bridge tolls blindly paid

With a wish that there is another side

And that on the other side there are forests and fields

The roads across them leading to the very edge of the universe

Where there is nothing more to cross

Where you can because you no longer have a homeland

Sit on the very and and dip your feet into an abyss

Sit and starve until you’ve grown the wings

Or until something far stronger than you are

Has put again some flesh on your bones

I came to tell you the brdige had been demolished

Because we did not love

The fog will fall on some other cities

To cover the ugliness and shame

We will make it again out of mud