Lot Ikara [English translation]

Warned me Father, when he made the wings,

Against flying to my own accords.

Yet my goal – thought’s wish – muffled the words

And ready for action tendons strung.

Up! Above heads, above roofs, above the Earth!

Rustling ruffled fluff!

The highest temple’s enclosed in canopy,

And I – over canopy – through puff!

They cry: blindness! They cry: conceit!

As I push the sky down with my arms

And catch in the eye bulk of space,

where all is small and everyone’s small!

their chatter absorbed

fanfare of hush

in fathoms they go

me – up!

their city – a labyrinthian scab of bark

necrotic peel of a tree

their state – handful of islands drifting in blue

existence of theirs – roaches’ trot.

Clouds’ humble necks I push away,

wind howling behind me like a dog;

Not asking for a way, won’t look for ways

I am the way beyond!

They cry: blindness! They cry: conceit!

As I push the sky down with my arms

And catch in the eye bulk of space,

where all is small and everyone’s small!

their chatter absorbed

fanfare of hush

in fathoms they go

me – up!

Winged and naked, among shards of light

entranced on gods' playground

their feasts and wars – like roaches’ march

their Parnassus – grooves in the bark…

They don’t see me, encircling like suns

nebulae of inhuman visages

‘Till one prods me with fire unawares

And strikes me down – into abyss.

On skies dark, light is my mark

My mark, last one, fleeting, but own

and I fall as a comet, momentary flame

perhaps fulfilling someone’s wish

And falling through hush

me – flame – burns the sleet

all hurries up

me - down