Читать книгу Der Himmel ist ein kleiner Kreis - Carolina Schutti - Страница 2

Monologue at 3 a.m.

Better that every fiber crack

and fury make head,

blood drenching vivid

couch, carpet, floor

and the snake-figured almanac

vouching you are

a million green counties from here,

than to sit mute, twitching so

under prickling stars,

with stare, with curse

blackening the time

goodbyes were said, trains let go,

and I, great magnanimous fool, thus wrenched from

my one kingdom.

Sylvia Plath