Wall

???

This is the wall, Melisa, the garden is beyond the wall.

The bees that buzz in it are your body.

There's no gate. Birds sprout in the sky.

They wear their red color of death and alight on the forehead.

To peck the true dream that sleeps beyond sight.

My dream is bread, Melisa. You are the rose in that bread.

The bread is beyond the wall where the bees buzz.

I see red birds on the foreheads of passers-by,

Who know nothing while they fill their bowls

With simple grub of the living, for the appearance is stronger.

This is the wall, Melisa, untouched by the violence of a cry

Which I stabbed like a knife between two stones.

The knife has broken, the bird flies around my shoulders

And wall of your garden, Melisa, is the wall of weeping.

(translated by Charles Simic)