Sleep Weaves Its Web

Lovers

Lovers by Marc Chagall (Photo credit: Tomasz Tuszko)

Sleep weaves its web of breath
holy writ
but no-one here is literate
save the lovers
fleeing, flying out
through the singing wheeling
dungeons of the night
dream-bound
climbing over the mountains
of the dead
in order then to bathe
only in birth
of their own
brought-forth-from-the kiln
sun –

Schlaf webt das Atemnetz
heilige Schrift
aber niemand ist hier lesekundig
außer den Liebenden
die flüchten hinaus
durch die singend kreisenden
Kerker der Nächte
traumgebunden
die Gebirge
der Toten
übersteigend
um dann nur noch
in Geburt zu baden
ihrer eigenen
hervorgetöpferten
Sonne –

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