Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Hey, lament, if I may call you so would you come here to bring your sorrow? Fragrance, do you have things to tell? I would breathe in your poisoned smell. How many curtains! But none that hangs. I feel my head, lungs and heart have pangs. That's for the drinks I had to take. Maybe for all that I can take. For fasting there is a believer. I stubbornly think of a dinner. I'm hungry! Who cares if I ate the tears and the fear and the hate. I'm also thirsty. I'll drink my pail of blizzard, rainstorm and the hail and after getting tired from it I fall asleep on this couplet. But lament, why am I saying so would you come here to bring your sorrow?
0
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC
"The Hangover" by J. Orten (1919-1941)
Hey, lament, if I may call you so would you come here to bring your sorrow? Fragrance, do you have things to tell? I would breathe in your poisoned smell. How many curtains! But none that hangs. I feel my head, lungs and heart have pangs. That's for the drinks I had to take. Maybe for all that I can take. For fasting there is a believer. I stubbornly think of a dinner. I'm hungry! Who cares if I ate the tears and the fear and the hate. I'm also thirsty. I'll drink my pail of blizzard, rainstorm and the hail and after getting tired from it I fall asleep on this couplet. But lament, why am I saying so would you come here to bring your sorrow?
Written March 31,  1941 Original in Czech: https://cs.wikisource.org/wiki/Zcest%C3%AD/Kocovina
Written by
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem