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Four Poems by Johanna Domonkos

blooming and decomposing moments absorbing inside me
touching and my face shared in everything blooming decomposing
absorbing inside me to recognize why I came to the intersecting line of
something or another to make me believe
pain can turn into joy
that makes a difference inside the body
now when the river must be crossed
now when the blood must be crossed

waiting for the news to cry
from over here to go over there everything easier
she who cries cries beautifully loves everyone
you watch me and laugh
that I let myself falllllllllllll into the pit you dug

if the world were good if it’d appear many times with a friendly face
and get stuck in living matter in a poppy in my blood in my anger
why leave it to someone else what’s chasing me now
tenderly long lasting
for touching for calling


step into the together-time of objects, spaces where invisible,
unsolvable situations return with your face. to say no?
must take it on otherwise I’ll be unrecognizable. to say yes?
get ready for the embrace to vanish in delight. pleasure
outshines every rule


the globe made of glass doesn’t belong to others, not to us — fire consumed it.
the glass-globe is beautiful. consolation rules my face. the title of the picture:
the sufferer and his lover. in different roles. in any story, can imagination
be assumed so much — would anything remain hidden? you bonded with my heart.
you want to spit a bullet into my insides


until I don’t place myself in the center of the world I can’t be the same age
as you, you with the redeemed life,
until I do not forget beginnings and endings (at least at home),
blind fear smiles back at me: delusion
among assumed-outside and assumed-inside I am and am not glamorous
gorgeous wild horses
–again and again immortals do not harness me –
then and in the meantime and now want me to understand
the non-difference the absence of being present and the absence of subjectivity
the ornaments of earthly dignities
gee – how many horses do I have to hold back inside me
gee – no turning back
the milky way hangs on my mane

–Johanna Domonkos translated by Jan Garden Castro and Gabor Gyukics


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