Today I sat down in front of the piano The keys were telling me about Vanilla hills With lonely purple trees… Today in a glass of wine I saw two lips Who were reading the Illiad In ancient Greek… The grey sheets of the sky told me that Rain will fall all night And I still will be mortal Like these trees that have no name… Still, the wind tangoes with no one And soon prints will be written On the sand On which he’ll be walking To the destination of absurdism I smell him smoking Like a chimney in a German town… The drums are still hitting My heart Like some wild rock band… How long This space is spinning around my soul While my eyes search In a raindrop a whole ocean Through which whales move and I listen to their voices echoing With the viola… I want to slip from this roof And fall into a vortex Where flickering souls are Catching light from stars And I’ll find what i’m looking for… I will be writing till the stars Start giggling again With the moon smoking pot And when the dogs begin to growl Like jazz-men in a pub I will be free, Free from this square one…