Poems by Mgr. art. Pavol Janik, PhD. (magister artis et philosophiae doctor)
http://scars.tv/ccdissues/286sep-octl18/Faces.htm#Table
At the Table
Translated into English by Smiljana Piksiades
An infirmary of flowers of the field
in a vase.
So many of the white
that the blood inside our veins stiffens.
Thus we wither together
torn away from
life.
I am crying you, morning
Behind the horizon the light is spraying.
The sky trembles like a tear.
The winged summer wilts.
Through the algae a lonesome dew slides.
Trees hold empty nests in their hands.
I quietly sing birds psalms.
In the empty night, empty star is falling.
Empty gaze of water is still cloudy.
I read an exclamation of silence
and drink the morning blood stream aloud.
The morning is taking deep breaths.
With its soft palms of the hands,
the haze crumbles poems.
Heart’ls beating is not quieter.
Unbelievable sobs, like as if it was dead.
Translated into English by Smiljana Piksiades
Excellent poem