In the eyes of the child
I read what it thinks of me
what it sees or guesses, how
I can be a lioness

can be everyone's friend
in word and deed
ready every day
jumping over any ravine

to the place where I want to be
finding of itself new questions
in the eyes of that child
with which an adventure begins

Open and closed doors
windows shutters castles wards shops towns roads
borders. Follow your path
if you can, where possible

Open and closed gardens
skies valves taps sewers sluices vaults coffins
graves. Look and smell
where you are, where you're going

Open and closed monasteries
societies visors letters flowers looks lips eyes
ears. Listen and be blind
to what you don't need to see

Open and closed books
credits lines veins wounds chakras minds questions arms
hearts. Speak and keep silent
about what doesn't need to be said

Open and non-open
water fire kitchens pans curtain endings conversations
relationships. Be caring
for others and yourself

I don't imitate,

I learn, and hope to become --


who I will be then.

Hand in hand we sit

together in the garden --


of our affection.

If you don't take risks,

you put everything at stake:


you risk all your life.

Your house can be my house
our house, a nice house
I love you

if you don't want to be more
than I am and want to be more
than you are, not a boy

but a man who dares
to see me as Í see me
then you'll see more

of reality than you think
you see with your self-conceit
Look carefully, look better, I am

not a lesser man, I am
more than your expectations
How far do you dare?

A circle of pink

petals spreads around the bush --


fully packed with buds.

A trail in the snow:

the fresh footprints of a fox --


along red spatters.

The sun is setting,

from the water there's darkness --


rising everywhere.

We danced to a new year
in the utopia of the music
and the Golden Oldie
songs of love, longing
and sorrow that live
in our lungs

and emerge unpredictably
all of a sudden from the depths
of our breath
caressing or storming full
of experiences that make us
feel who we are

and what it's all about, seize
the eternity of our lives
in the stream of our breath
which is also the breath of others
while we are completely
engrossed in our presence

In the land you dreamed

for us, I still wait for you --


dead and buried there.

Chance brought you here
and me, we don't look

too much, unconscious
of the questions in the eyes

the other one sees
We're on the way, talking

or silent, calmly
letting the energy flow

through the gates of desire
to the organs of our happiness

and we forget ourselves,
bathing in peace:

heaven supports the earth
she breathes her seasons

around and around in parties
of life and we are

All the elements that we arrange
in the Periodic Table, the very first
bacteria and also we humans
are creators of the universe

In time and space we transform
the energy and co-write
the imperishable facts
on the edges of black holes

That information already existed
as Creator
giving it space and time
with a big bang

It's inconceivably
and inseparably both
energy and information
are aspects of each other

My mind doesn't get that
Even if in deep meditation
my consciousness unites
with all that exists, I am ignorant

Quietly she looks

at me -- a comb through my mind,


waving in her wind.

The bell, an unexpected visit:
a gentleman who asks me

to come along, I have to
I am arrested

but only for further investigation
'Please don't make it any worse!'

At the office, I get a seat
'Please wait here, then it will

be fine, it takes time
You do understand, don't you?

Accuracy is required and you are
not the only one. I wish that was true!'



We get food, just enough
in our own stench, silently

arguing around
the growing puddle of *****

over the rotting mattresses
a soft bed of worms

from the breathtaking **** barrel
It seems we've been quietly forgotten

Sometimes someone whispers
if he dares and faces

the angry glances of fear
of caning, so as not to get crazy

It stopped working,

it's fake love, not a real hug:


no more alcohol!

In posh clothes she walks

in the street with a coffee --


An efficient life.

Come in, I kiss your eyes
I'll show you everything
Take your time, come as often as you like
and you will leave satisfied

Take a bath
in all my colours – soft
like powder brushes they caress
your look

I embrace your attention
with the gold of history
Here everything is
forever young

Unconditionally, I fold myself
to your needs
I give
images you'll never forget

Be surprised, enchanted, thrilled
Come inside and flow
through me
I'm there for you

From the storm, the flood,

washed ashore in the silence --


of the newborn day.

I have a store full
of old things, it is difficult
to ensure

that they are not sold
to snobs with no idea
of their real value

without the slightest idea
that it cannot be expressed
in their money

only in tax money, annually
to be collected for maintenance
and everything that comes with it

to have the works viewed
by those who are interested
and that can be anyone

which is hard to accept
for barbarians who get rich
from constant replacement

The evening twilight.

Tipping up, I see the white --


scuts of the rabbits.

You have two arms, so

bow them nicely around me --


then it is for you.

I never played Hamlet,

I was just the performer --


who was playing him.

So tasty, the smell

of steaming bread, freshly baked --


while I was sleeping.

I am bored, but the view
of the city at night
is beautiful, still

too hot to sleep or count
the skyscrapers, the stacks
of illuminated windows

My hand waves goodnight
Would anyone be looking at me?
I squint my eyes

to peeping telescopes
then I cast them down again
to read a little, insights

I already had, but can not rhyme
right now, with the world
that keeps me awake

If only I could sleep, dream
of light towers in the desert
without being there myself

The cow looks beyond,

maybe at the evening light --


mirrored in her eye.

Dozing, I vibrate

along with the world outside --


A leaf in the wind.

She is a goddess,

wearing a long train of boys --


like a Golden Goose.

In bed I listen

to the piano playing --


somewhere down the road.

The vase with flowers,

which I just put outside, look:


full of butterflies.

Every day I pass

the forest, it's hard to see --


that we're transforming.

The birch watches me

with a purely divine look --


of generous eyes.

I see her peeping --

she looks back to me and then


we are both ashamed.

In Jerusalem

the sky merges with the trees –


in keppel kippahs.

In the compartment

window, we kiss and we merge --


with the May blossoms.

The landscape awakes

in hesitant morning light --


still breathing silence.

I had the most marbles
kept them in a bucket in the attic
Whoppers in all metallic colours
and rare marble ones
Nobody liked to lose from me
so I just played alone

A classmate had an ivory marble
but ivory is forbidden, and I obey
the rules, that's the best game

People have no idea
how it works and what they waste
They say that I'm parsimonious
even with the foreign cents
which I cannot spend, the truth
is I work hard

and lead a sober life, the good example
that would benefit them more
than the inflation of a luxury life

Why are you afraid?

Does it give you the reward --


of fewer hard hits?

Mist, with some shadows

of animals in the side --


of the road, hit, dead.

The buzz of the guests

on the patio lets me --


snoop around freely.

Your leg on my thigh

provokes me, then you ask me:


This is fun, isn't it?

I like to be soft,

but hard enough to resist --


the worldly hardness.

Being so concerned

with the oppressed everywhere --


just not with colleagues...

In the hospital

lounge he takes a seat and falls --


asleep exhausted.

Her curly hair sings!

And it enchants me, it is --


electrostatic.

Dawn: the world takes on

colours, becomes lifelike, but --


remains elusive.

My hand wants to know
what I, what they
want, do, and to
understand what is happening

to my body, and what
it has to do with me

My soul also wants to
know in order to know
and to laugh about it
when I think I know something

Laugh relievingly
Think about why

others do what they do
and then, what hold
my hand has
to help

I think ahead
behind my clouds
the sun shines
the sun smiles

It is printed now,

as pure art: the sorrow, mine --


everyone's, isn't it?

In the museum, the wind blows
from everywhere to everywhere, like us
visitors from all over the world

We carry a culture web, nourish it
with the collections of the museums
which are larger than their buildings

We carry the art
with us, it is greater than we are
greater than our time and abode

We carry out the art
the history that connects us
and always does continue where it ends

I do carpentry.

The workers are wondering --


how to proceed now.