Song to a Girl I Don’t Know Well by Adam Zdrodowski
To meet, wind-beaten, mint-scented, in the world, in the
Season of rains and peacocks’ restlessness,
With sublime snow-covered peaks looming in the distance.
Never mind the lark’s song, the nightingale’s sweet trill.
The season of rains and peacocks’ restlessness
Has other stuff in store: the monkeys’ conversations, the porcupine’s keen sting.
So sod the lark’s cheap song, the nightingale’s sweet trill;
Breathe in the tang of weed, the fragrance of the pines,
Regard what’s yet in store: the monkeys’ conversations and the porcupine’s keen sting;
Dream broken dreams, and join disjointed parts;
Breathe in the tang of weed, the fragrance of the wine;
Fall into step with me while sleeping on the wing.
Dream broken dreams, and join disjointed parts.
Close stranger, radiating strangeness of a sweeter kind,
Fall into step with me while sleeping on the wing.
We’ll emerge from the brokenness, the disjointedness of dreams:
Close strangers, sharing the strangeness of a sweet kind
(no sublime snow-covered peaks looming in the distance),
We emerge from the brokenness, the disjointedness of dreams
To meet, wind-beaten, honey-scented, in the world, at dusk. Art by Gabriela Lutostanski
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