Archive for June 12th, 2022

Sunday, 12 June 2022

Untitled (Dark Breadth of the Sea) by Pēters Brūveris

dark breadth of the sea,
dunes like creased, crumbling
nameless gods,
on the horizon a lead-grey Sun sinks
and in the sky a fine
shroud of snowflakes;

closing eyes, on inner lids
the grazing touch of glimmering Ostracoderms,
red-streaked snail shell chambers open
and, bass flutes humming,
reveal their beauty’s fossils

a fine snow in my hair;
pack on my back, full of unresuscitated minerals;
my feet feeling the upper sediments,
heart linked to the Devonian, the age of fish;

I’ll thaw like snow;
in the best case scenario like mineral
I’ll be scraped free and put in some strange backpack;
yes, my feet in this century no longer know how to
touch the ground; even though my heart reaches back to the Devonian,
the age of fish!

the sea’s a dark nude
incessant transit of the snails of sorrow
through the provisional harbor of my being;
I write letters to humankind
with spear-grass on my sandy palm…


Date: 2010 (original in Latvian); 2010 (translation in English)

By: Pēters Brūveris (1957- )

Translated by: Inara Cedrins (19??- )