Monday, December 17, 2007

poem

miroslav holub

Ode to joy
You only love
when you love in vain.


Try another radio probe
when ten have failed, take two hundred rabbits
when a hundred have died:
only this is science.


You ask the secret.
It has just one name:
again.

In the end
a dog carries in his jaws his image in the water,
people rivet the new moon, I love you.

Like caryatids our lifted arms
hold up time's granite load
and defeated
we shall always win.

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