I never say warm words
on gloomy days,
my words are as sorrowful as a cloudy day.
I never read worthless books...
I never want to go blind, and if it happens, like Borges,
let someone else read books to me.

Who will feed the crows,
and who will drink the freshly pressed cherry juice
from a transparent glass?
Who will feed the crows with carrion?
I know one man!

Maybe you’ll go somewhere,
Or you’ll pull over and enter some ***** hotel along the road.
You’ll drink ***** and eat something with meat.
Then you’ll go up to the room and fall asleep
calmly,
as if nothing were weighing on your heart.

In the morning, you’ll feel a terrible headache,
you’ll go down to the lobby
and drink a glass of ***** with a pickled cucumber.
You’ll start the car.
You’ll want to go to the sea and you will.
You’ll go, and you’ll cool off.
Your body will calm down.
Then you’ll lie on the sand
and cover your face with a scrap of newspaper
so the sun won’t disturb you.

Back home, everyone will ask where you were,
but their thoughts and questions
won’t mean anything to you.

What is ignorance?
I have thought about it a lot
and concluded that it is
mindless pride
empty and meaningless.

When you don’t know how to treat others,
when you fail to understand another’s pain,
then it no longer matters
how many books you have read,
for you cannot even hold a conversation
without hurting the one you speak with.

everything has changed  and you ?    a stranger for it
                   rapid construction with matter   en vogue or on hand
         and you flirt thru   a portfolio of guest incarnations
                                                    ­      like a japery
we experiment with death   when we (breath-catches-breath)
       recreate this fast
                         and disregard  past experience

Neli: We probably live in chaos…
Irene: No, we’re just in political chaos.
Neli: I agree. How much does the Dutch cheese I love cost?
Irene: More than love. ))
Neli: My husband says my love costs him a lot.
Irene: Hahaha.
Neli: When I was working, he never said that. But I always reply that love is priceless though I do love exotic and truly expensive dishes.
Irene: Well, isn’t love worth being expensive? Like the price of a Gucci bag.
Neli: Of course!
Irene: Hahaha.

A small swamp where you cannot sink,
cannot hide in the clouds,
and cannot heal wounds by resting your head on your mother’s lap.
When pain and sorrow surge through your body at once,
it means you feel adulthood.