impressions between 1997-2013

if all the dreams
are ending into emptiness
between the dark and dawn
i’m clinging to the single one
outdrawn from context
about you

today the winds from north
are chasing clouds of snow
that shade my mind
i wish it was as yesterday
the skies translucent up to stars
so clear that one could read
the footprints of aliens
if it wished

could you translate me
the messages your toes
passed to my toes
nobody knows
that you can write
with fingernails
on skin of whales
sing to me underwater
and i can hear you
as if near you
even if away

lit by the autumn fires
purple blood
is rushing in my greenish veins
before it rains
before it rains
I trace the patterns
of the fleeing days

it’s only moment
that you can
remind of me
like I’m today
before I’m gone
and colors fade away

she shouldn’t sleep
on evening sky
her cloudy hair
all woven by the wind
to trap the goose
why does she wait
until the sunset dies
when to the hoarthroast night
all blushing colors
she might loose

coming darkness
like a lilac tulip
through the skeletons
of night that
trees have turned
only fragrant smell
of autumn-fires
keeping memories
that they could talk

at days when leaves are falling
and the world is clear again
the thoughts
fall from frozen sky

impossible things happen sometimes
in the dry leaves losing color after frost
you can find the ones that still have
like the red blood in veins
or you will be getting
the thoughts of incredible happiness
walking under the rains of falling leaves
feeling like in dream
about the yellow butterflies
you know it is all so brief
this day the feeling the miracle
maybe tomorrow already
the rains of greyness
will turn the trees gradually into
the copper coins with no value
but you are still so happy today

Whatever I am

imagine labyrinth
every passage ending somewhere
when you enter
and seems
as if each of them
is a chance of reaching
so that
you even forget to ask
what are you going for
but without perceiving
the corridors become narrow
and a moment comes
that you are standing
head upon the wall
to have the wings


is there only your way
to the heart of the mountain?
is not the single one
inside the caves
if you don’t believe
listen the stalactites
upon your head
its me, the water
shaping myself
into the dreams of
blinding light
under the roots
of the mountain


my dreams
have changed
anorganic creatures
coming out
from nowhere
interrupt my memories
of other dimensions
the feminine element
inside me
is astonished
of the similarity
of energy
drugging me
deeper and deeper
into the safety
of their
tunnel-like world
with no
turning backs
so that my dream
is seeming
more real
than my life itself


I feel like
coming downhill
after work
not looking
at my steps
in wasteful mind
it’s raining still
I’m crossing streets
and passing
seeking eyes
of strangers
hoping just
that suddenly
it happens
that you
never know


i’m not trying
to break the codes of
behind your sunglasses
that i never reach
but if i think of it
i know that it’s
the lie

seems to be delayed
i wake up
to see the messages
with lost meaning
borrow the
out-of-date dreams
to see at night
just in case
that I could still


its like
suffocating in the morning
having no air
except his breath
making pancakes of anger
and love
kids playing submarine
under the blanket
and you
washing the dishes
without no escape
but dreams


i will fade
when it is darkening
and all the contours of myself
will just dissolve
beneath the borders of existence
that is cold
and silent
like in sleep


do you think it weird
of felling love
into the pixels
that i recognize as you
i think you do
because that isn’t
life we recognize as real
like cleaning windows
buying presents
for your kids
or having sex etc
or going to the gym
its just my dream
if even this


you probably will break
if all the colors left
are only grey’s and white’s
and even
eyes of yours
forget that there could be
some others
of delight
but this is what i see


i wanted to tell you about nights like yesterday’s
when you are asleep under the summer-sky
and sharp young moon is lighting
the snow in this side of the world
i walk from the party all alone
in the park above the city
on top of the hill
its quiet and cold
and all the old houses in downtown
are lighted because its Christmas
it has been snowing all the morning
and then the temperature began to drop
making the snow like white glittering flour
my knees are freezing
but i still feel warmth inside
probably because of wine
i just do not want to go home
because walking here in the silence
makes me to feel you close


to flee away
i leave them sleeping
in the morning dusk
so warm
and in the dark
the flakes are falling
just the feathers
touching my desire
with the downy clothes
as owl of snow
i let them cover me
and then i fly


my body’s like
the sleeping snow
white sheet of silence
listening the sound
of your footsteps
walking over me
to generate
the prints of meaning


i want you to think of me
as if i were a lake under ice
because i am
in the mist all over me
and i cannot open
my blue eyes
and look into the sky


the art of not asking
letting yourself to be
the single drop in flow
to the ocean of nowhere

the art of reading
the letters never
written down
but eyes
in bathroom mirror

every sign
just the part of the pattern
wanting or not


if spring was late
you closed your eyes
and whispered that she’d come
and walk on you
with footsteps
breaking ice
and bringing
winds of coming
smell of waters
from the mountains
crocuses in snow
like candles.

did she came?


the dunes are unpredictable
sweltering nights
awake the sleeping sands
to scratch your face
with their desperation
blowing them over your body
adhering on sweat
kissing your dry lips
until you wake up
to see that they are gone


i became the fire today
melting the snow
around me
how the snowflakes evaporate
if i breathe
until only ashes mark
where we were


thousands of jackdaws
have decided to gather their people
behind my window
as if knowing
that i am just one of them
taking off my feathers
every dawn
before my office is opened
tilting my head behind the computer
as i think of nights of winds
on the branches


snow falls on my hair and face
but i say him
do not melt
turn me into the glacier
i don’t want to wake up
before the ice-age is over


sometimes the weekend
becomes into the eternity
imprinted in sandstone
every minute like a thin layer
red ones for desires
purples for love rejected
until finally just some
innocent lovers come
on Monday
writing their names in it
timeless cycle


escaping from meanings
the whispers transform
turn into the touches
burn the body
press themselves on lips
slip inside
flow in vessels
raise the fever
penetrate the eardrums
seek their way in the silence
stun you bewitch you
until they get accepted


there is a place
where to lay
on the slope
just before sunset
close-eyed and wait.
and the shadows
of Lebanese cedars
will move over you


maple flowers
are like green dreams
in my head
they believed its spring
and blossomed
but now
rain is dripping from them
and they cannot allure
bees as they have to
they just fall
on ground
one by one
being a dream


i close my eyelashes in sun
and the light turns
into the petals of wild tulips
they shine
like radiant stars
with gleaming edges
surrounding the passages
of the hidden rooms
and the sombre night inside
to pollinate
the sparkling dust
in between
the particles of sadness
until everything is mixed up
forming new compound
of wishes
powerful enough
to maybe become true


dance on the surface
and make you look up
from beneath.
In your sky
every drop is
like the orifice
to escape
from folks
that cannot talk.
The shadows of trees
make you think
of being a bird.
It would be beautiful
to stretch your fins
scales all gleaming
under silver moon
just without breathing
one night
up there.


the cats whiskers
shudder on eyelids
tickled lips
hair aware of caress
goose-flesh on shin
the cats whiskers
warmth inside


the ways of uncertainity
are getting clearer
some orifices leading outside
some do inside
to the roots of the oppression
letting it free to be free
choosing attendants
to be more powerful
Aechna to be the queen of light
Raven to be the governess
of darkness
so that the walls disappear
and everything is
uncertainity or the opposite
up to me to wish


weekends are for
capturing and letting go
the distracting patterns
of water on window
joining into estuaries
deep and shallow rivulets
between rounded stones
on pavement
the sound of wind on poplars
at night
and the opposite ones
a tiny child’s footstep
on evening beach
on the reach of waves
the blue inviting lantern
of the glow-worm
bringing luck to someone
if it wishes
silence around me
without my kids


grey skies have stillness
nothing is mirroring
in your eyes
you see a swallow
up there
and you can smile again


we are close
in meeting
in the air
flats invisible
for two of us
up there
are waiting
with the walls
of voices
whispered to the ear
and floors
and ceilings
made of echoes
we just want to hear
but the rooms
that we do not
believe in


afternoon heat
rises through my bare foot
i walk in the limestone forest
pinetrunks allure butterflies
i don’t know yet
where i am going
but my legs lead me
deeper to the world of deers
under the old pinetree
the leaves are covered with white birdshit
but there is nobody in the nest
perhaps the hawks’
i remember the place
as i trace all the places i go
not that i am going back there
but it may happen in dreams
hair is covered with spidernets
when i follow the track of wild pigs
they have digged out the orchid bulbs
and the ground under the neglected appletree
in a place where once was a house
i know that there had to be a well
but i cannot find it
until i look into the wild lilacs
ten metres below
i can see my eyes
asking why am i there


bought flowers
in the morning
orange bells
like flames
on my window
not to turn my head
to see them
but I know
what I feel
if I look


the b words
in me


She looked
With eyes of night
Stars falling
Out of tears
Her lashes
Grazing back
To all their
Endless years
If i could
Whisper her
That she is
Still the same
His lightening
For meanings
To his Universe
Of flames


night turns windows
into mirrors
building barriers
to dreams
of mine
but if
shadows dance
on walls
of forest
owls will wake
to fly outside


low tides
will let me
find the urks
in cliffs
through which
they breathe
each cave
there having
life inside
that never leaves
the wide-eyed
too delicate
for light
of days
and wishes
for the waves
low tides
for me
to make
the cliffs
my own


surrounded by
the august crickets
the smell of yarrow
and the spiders
climbing on my shins
i close my lashes
and the world it spins
around me
and my lover

my skin is white for your verses
verses from lips
from fingers
write on me your words
passionate spells
i like to be marked
unseen under clothes

at the home of moon
your head in dreams
on pillow
is enlighted of the thoughts
that soon
my little finger
will be lizard
on your back tonight


close and distant –
will the estuaries
of my fatelines
end in palms of yourse
only seas in these
can close
my cycle of desire


on your back
the skin has imprints
of the grass and smells
the love my love
is covered by the open hair
like laguns of the tidal zone
i sleep on collar bones
of yourse
still filled with waters
nourishing my dreams
the waves are back again
to wake Undines

The ruins of windeaten minarets
are miraging in the heat
of translucent dreams
where your hands are wiping away
the sand glued on my body.
Enliven the cool wells
between my lips
only together can we bring back
the life to the oasis of love
forgotten by others.

Your spirit
has a dream home in me –
it comes and I hold it
when it rejoines with mine
every night
every morning
every day
every sunset.
Will I let it go?
I will if it rebels.
But I know it comes back
every night
every morning
every day
and every night.

sometimes you are the night
and i am all the rest
the dreams the hands the blood in veins
the spirit for the dark desires
of the night and light
but sometimes i’m the shadows
at the days when you become the light
i cling to you don’t lose me when you go

The white curtains of snow
hide the world outside
and my thoughts from the world
i am happy with you in me
in my room with the bed of ivory sheets
and the red cyclamen on the window
i look how it snows and snows
and then i see the dove with light-brown eyes
looking at me through the snowfall

the clouds are pink in haze
like cheeks in fever
and the heavens colour
is so transparent and pale
of tears
the days that
i am losing you are quiet
ponds are freezing
wind has lost its lovers
on the earth
i listen footsteps
echoing in distance
till the sound is gone
and close my eyes
to call you back again
so vivid in my love

can you love
reflection of her eyes
on surface of the lake
so much that
she will wake
from there and
and be your dream
before the wind
does take her image

when was it
that you learned to talk
the words that move my griefs
when did you my love
said to me
that i should walk
on my own legs
not looking over my shoulder
i cannot record the time
because everything is relative
seeing me moving out of the tunnel
can be the same real
as me looking the to floor of my train
am i moving to the light
i can tell it if the sunbeams
touch my shoes

winter is a wizard
making traces magic
that we leave on snow
fairies flying
on the branches of the frost
with wings of christal glass
and if you close your eyes
they kiss you on your nose

love is an urgent need
to press my lips on you neck
tickled by small hairs
kiss feels like an adventure
a bit salty a bit with taste unknown
something of your very own

it feels
in the beinnging
the Gods molded the world
solid and final
oceans of silver
beautiful shining waves
sun of pure gold
and the sky of marble reds
but when we came
our feelings
melted it
and made it alive

if morning comes
it wipes away
the shadows
moving on your face
and still in dreams
you smile with sudden shudder
on the eyelids
answering my dreams
so far away

i know what is common in us
we are the hitchikers of love
in this Universe
and it is quite hopless adventure
to be always on the way
isnt it my dear?
i think how big is the probability
you picked the same track
as i did tonight
but i am sleepless
and i want to see you besides me
that we could forget
we were on the way

the valleys
of glacial rivers
carved into the red soil
like enormous veins
are neglected by waters
but never forgetting
only the lulled pool
in the bottom
is still waiting the frogs
dying out

the fields are in the mist
of rising heat
of endless dreams
where clouds surround
my secret thoughts
of sliding hands
like willow kittens on your
naked skin
on early emerald-green fields of corn
where spring is about to be born
between the spots of snow
forgotten from the sheets

you say you stay with me
the way that you are now
so far away alone you dream of me
in spring that hasn’t started yet
and in the mornings when you wake
and at the nights you hold me
dreaming that i held
the time and you somehow
that you would stay
the way that you are now with me
and wouldn’t wake until i dream
this dream with you

this longing grows at sunsets
longer than the shadows of the trees
that cross the melted mirrors of the waters
promising for spring and shining anemones
like thousand stars to blossom under feet
and hides within the shade of green
of buds unopened in their dreams
which distant thoughts were swinging
in the evening wind towards me

for weeks and weeks
you dropped your words
from fingers on my screen
and i became addicted of these draughts
which pressed themselves
between my passages of thoughts
and stayed with me in bed
so sweet as you have ought
and now the silence hurts

some dreams are happy
while the other days
i wait so desperately meeting
with your smiling eyes
amidst the falling flakes

i wrap your words around me
when you work
and sit unnoticed by your feet
invisible to other eyes in this cocoon
that you have made me
not of silky lies that seem so smooth
but of the homemade linen truth

when wind from far away
is rocking copper wind-bells
hanging by my bed
this energy becomes
into the waves of sounds
that chime in dreams
and push the sudden burst
of heartbeat make my body
all aware of you

my lashes maybe wet
of rain or sadness
when it is pouring inside me
the first Pacific rain
I suddenly get clueless
on Vancouver streets
while all my rushing dreams
are frightened far away again

you played away with me
and sealed the little kisses
picked from lips on fingertips
to hush me up with you
just like you were a boy
i dream of it today

in winning exultation by my windows
the summer storm
is bending howling trees
so very satisfied of
chasing out all messengers
i sent to you with wishful wings
and all my waiting
has retreated to the whispers
which cannot surpass distances
towards you

when all alone i feel
as if your hands become
so intimate like they were mine
at moments when i am searching
on my body after you

grey wolf has the scent of me now
in his nostrils
when he breathes the air
in the places i tried to disengage
of my craving for him
i run and my heart beats
away from him
in the narrowing circles
and we both know
that it centers in the small opening
between the trees
waiting when we meet

tonight the august moon would blend
the blood of you and It
when you are laying on the moss
with she wolf leaning on your laps
Its gaze is blue
maybe resisting to the change
from cub to yellow-staring killer
of your kind
reminding past-time werewolves
trapped into the other realms
she looks at you
with the devoted eyes
and licks your scars from inside out
until your silver skin is spotless
for her bite surrender you

the woodpecker was the only creature besides us
when i wanted to lead you
into my world of being
where i live as
something between the tree spirit
trapped with my roots into the sand
and the she-wolf who would run
along your disappearing paths in dreams
and yearning on the spots
where you scent of trail bewitches me not to wake up
the woodpecker was the only creature besides us
while we walked with the wordless wishes
becoming around us dense like the wall
completing the spells that made our spirits
all naked and fearless
and then suddenly i recognized the good place
where both of me could be holding you
my wooden womb surrounding you
from your back and my teeth biting your skin
on the nape of your neck to surrender
and be overwhelmed
until i could not know anything else but you
existing in the whole world

and it is mist again
like in this spring when
corn was springing
into tender dreams of
deer in twilight
chasing of their maybe mate
but mist in autumn
filled with sadness ripening
and scratching with the stalks
my sleepy face
and i am waking up alone
into September

at Crete every single thing
reminded me of you
i swam towards east from Vai
and there was nothing
separating us than waves
the tone of doves and crickets
in the wind
was like at Paralimni fields
at fall of night
the moon was same
so passionately bright
and desperate alone
and then you sent me rain

resisting that the trees are losing
all their summer dreams tonight
new winter corn is springing
on the fields of purple autumn dawn
to feed the fairy deer who tiptoe
past and future to the lawn in twilight

always you come at night
your legs are tired of looking
all the stars of the world
always always always
and is silent but the humming
of distant worlds
when i try to reach for your thoughts
and i never will
only when moon is there
full moon
we sleep together
and you are without the dreams
in peace – my the sombre darkness
asleep between my arms.

resisting that the trees are losing
all their summer dreams tonight
new winter corn is springing
on the fields of purple autumn dawn
to feed the fairy deer who tiptoe
past and future to the lawn in twilight

bus stops in front of the waiting platform of Nõo
i see some people hanging there
and i think this is again the youth killing time
and that they have no other place than bus platforms
but then i suddenly notice
that there is a small boy eating lollipop and laughing
sitting by his very young dad
who has sculls on the fingerless slippers
and he is cuddling the boy and stealing his lollipop
the friends are also there
two girls and two boys with deathly haircuts
and they too play with the little boy
and watch how one of their friends
does tricks with his wheeled skateboard
and then the dad says, lets go home
and they all start walking towards village center
the bus is leaving and there is 14th century church
between the leaves of purple maple tree

why are you
with me invisible at
my aching walks in prague
i step to bookshop
in the melusine’s song
to touch your lines
not going to be
play with ink with you
but why are you

your little lines
wings of the butterfly
restructured everything
now all the things i touched
are scattered at your place
and i am here with thine
my dreams and fears
flow through your fingers
and you smile
about bewitched roses
when i am in my bed
with everywhere your eyes
to catch my poses
and drawing you
between my naked legs

when only i am listening to you
your eyes are everywhere
so laughing shining
like the springs that only deer can know
and yet unsure of what will happen
if my eyes come close
for asking will i be for you…
then suddenly my gaze refracts
on surface of your sight
evoking memories of everything
what was what is and what will be
the drops of mist in clouds of dreams
the autumn rains we walk alone
and ocean waves we wish to be together

night stratifies Rome
into the layers
of visions and dreams
like it was a forest of ancients
where you become separated
of people out there
walking and hearing the whispering
of water springing from fountains
only you will drink unconscious
streaming to look up there
where night illuminates the scenes
of people to be
like optical illusions
living on the ceiling of the hall
that disappears at daylight
when world is plain

at absence
of your radiating smiles
big mist arose
from sulphur marsh
and hid your bicycle
and sunshine at the streets of rome
and alpine glaciers grew
this solstice
to the heavens blocking
all this little opening where
northern wind
could put her lips
and breathe the southern air

always you come at night
your legs are tired of looking
all the stars of the world
always always always
and is silent but the humming
of distant worlds
when i try to reach for your thoughts
and i never will
only when moon is there
full moon
we sleep together
and you are without the dreams
in peace – my sombre darkness
asleep between my arms.

i think of you
to my invisible in clouds
behind the Albanian hills
you are the rains
on the Ohrid water
so clear and deepless
you take the shapes of shadows
moving over my face
i think of you
to my invisible in clouds

when you love me
you fly with me to evening sky
your eyes are yellow like the bird’s
and green like moss
with little stars ignited by the fireflies for night
and then eyes deeply dark you speak italian
of worlds the color of the earth
you hide yourself of me maybe tomorrow

You are my coming backs to life
Every afteroon I chase the clouds
In the mirage of glittering ebony tower
Waiting only of you and i at this hour
And all the sadness is different
I can sense the smell of slow waters
Where i love to walk when i find myself
And it feels like you and i to share
When we walk and walk and walk
Together and you are smiling in my head
Waking everything everywhere

This morning
I sat by the balcony door
And spilled the coffee on clothes
I dreamed of a day
Your voice in May
Rocked clothespin shadows on floor
And of the evening
You stood in the fading light
For all the eyes unseen
And in the sky
You was my eyes
For stars that are the dream

do you know
is there an island
in the place where the wind starts
every evening
and it flies to you
up to the hill in LaSpezia
on the balcony where you sit
and whispers that i came
some days you smile
and say give me something
my little wind
smile to me
tell me of the castle
hidden in the blackberry roots
and the taste of your lips
on my fingers
tell me of the path
where you sit on top of the rocks
and look towards my hills over the sea
while the light comes
and brings the fragrance of pines
from me
and the voice of crickets
whispers to you that i cannot sleep
wishing your little wings

maybe in Portovenere
little fish come from beneath
the illuminated yacht
and eat your fingers
but you are waiting for
the black whale
maybe she comes tonight
smelling your smoke
maybe the storm is rushing over the sea
on the rocks of Palmaria
maybe if you listened carefully
you would hear
my lonely cellphone
ringing to you from the forest
over the waters
but tonight i am only one of them
who misses your voice

i became reborn somehow
every day a little bit
and i cried for longing
as an italian song became my spirit
and at new year night to come
i searched for my family out there
around the kitchen table
as a lost child
hoping that they would remember me
but they did not feel that i became part of them

in this night of spring
the snow is melting
and the stars appear
within the bluest blue
and each of them
when i can see it
is so full of you

sometimes i don’t know how is everything
i don’t know what we are, what i am even
and what we want to say to each other
i only know there is something that i feel but i cannot express
i think it is the child in me
an eight year old who does not think she is beauty
and knows that a lot of people think her to be a strange child
a lot of people
but when my head touches your head at night i am a child
i don’t want to talk of what will be of us and of the feelings
i don’t want to trap you and own you
i don’t want that you feel bad of what is in my eyes
but a child can look at you as is really and love you
without reasons and without asking if tomorrow you will be there too
a child can believe so and needs so

I feel more real when walking
an acorn from an oak tree
squeezed in my palm
and i think maybe it could be
the stopper that would hold my soul
from flowing out of me
from the holes it has
And in the end if it rooted
two things could happen
as the tree stretches its roots –
Either it scaffolds my soul
cocooning me safely inside
the web of life of whispering leaves
that can hide my every longing call
unheard by anyone in the world
Or it crushes myself
when it embraces me
and i will forever circulate
dissolved in his wooden veins
as an elf of broken hearts

in this mist that switches off the minds

all what was far away comes closer closer

helping us to find and hide

the lies we do to hold on to each other

Listening my heartbeat
I can fly into nothingness
Without calling more
For the echos
That reflect hidden futures

We are not on waiting
But we are
Not as in the book
But stranger and deepest the same
We waste to become normal
Because we already are us
growing not perishing
So entangled in each other
And with her little hands
Climbing to the future
As the tree elf
On our unseparable trueness

You ask if i would like
To make another cup for you
And turn the bitterness to sweet
As only  i would knew
Then changing forcasts sip by sip
You’ll drink the futures new
Until there in this final brew
You’ll find what’s meant for you

the flames are
dragons on the roofs
lies lit the forests
same as truths
paths burn
all destinies to dust
and live you must
that elves
cannot return


Hing on nii allika moodi

Seestpoolt tulev tung januseid joota

Tõstab vett valguse poole


Ja voolab ojadena

Meist kaugemale

Segunedes teiste vetega

Lahustades maa mõrudaid sooli

Aga osa näib allikas justnagu keevat

Otsides pääsu tagasi alla

Hinge pimedasse rüppe

Kus me oleme ise

Kas just sellesse heidame

Need hõbedakraapmed et paluda

Lootust olla alati triiki täis

Maa-alust salavett


I think always at you
And you live with us in New World
Here is a library of loved books
And at night they show old italian films
And in the morning you can take coffee and stay a bit
You know they were searching a voluntary librarian
I might go if i didnt like to sleep late hours
And the Local, a new cafe is open
Where we last time swang in front of it, all three of us
but alone i am in fear to go there
In really noone needs us if you don’t


Linn on nii avatud talvel
Aknad avali öösse
Lambivarjude valgel
Küünid ahmima tubasid, kööke
Kõik, kes vastu tulevad töölt
Nii võõrad kui tuttavad
Pööravad kuhugi õue,
avavad väravaid
Õhus on lõhnade rajad
Sinna kus ahjupajad
käed vastu pliidiust
keegi elabki akende taga
Nüüdsama su unistust


You hold me on your knees embracing

And sound of dripping water from the leaves

Builds curtains hiding us from life beyond the reach

I should be future-tracing each collision of your hating

Cocooned in dreams of what we were in Forest Deep

But all what I can do is waiting


Time is a river in which we float together with the current

Unconscious that it is and where it takes us

But every time when we try to force it under our control

Presenting the Clocks that should count Ourtime

We actually intervene into the forces

by predetermining the moment when the clock will stop ticking

And the Time gets start and end

Or maybe it will start counting the Era of Separation instead


Kevadpäikses sulav lumi

Talvest räägib jutte

Kust on koerad mööda käinud

Kus on tahmajutte

kus on meie kelgurajad

sinu saapa sammud

vaid sind ennast enam pole

meiega nii ammu


Olen kui heliseks minus

iga su sõna ja vaikus

su käte vahel jalgrattapulga peal

täna öösel ma sõitsin

mööda me tuttavaid paiku

me vaikses orus sarapuuurbadest

laugele langes unustuse tolmu

et sa ei mäletaks hommikuks

viisid mind kaugele kaugele

kus meid ärgates polnud


Ma olen kinni ses vihmasajus

Kui unine pilv taevast alla vajus

Ja laskus su laugele

siis minu põlvedel magades

minuga unesid jagades

sa tulid nii kaugele

ja pääsukesed lendasid me üle

kui sind hoidsin süles


Ilma silmadeta ei näe ma
Kas on musträstas
Leidnud mu vilepuu
Ilma kuulmata
sõnu ei sosista kirja
Sinu valelik suu
Ilma puudutust tundmata
juukseid ei lükka silmist
Mul sinu rattakäed
Ilma mäletamata
Mis olime
Mida ma uneski näeks
Kuidas sa kallima kaisus
Sirutad keset und
Värvitud silmade paisust
pühid ta pisaralund
Kuidas sa lubad ja annad
Mis ei kuulugi sulle
Vene tihaseks minu teed
Et ei peaks mõtlema mulle


Ma ei tea miks ma usun
Et sa oskad teha terveks
Kõik asjad ja anda nendele elu
Ma ise ei saa ju
Kuidas ma ka ei püüaks
ikka ma olen su katkine lelu
Millele vaid see väike poiss
Oskaks tagasi anda elu.


Kuu põimis enda viinamarjaks puusse
Seal tomatite vahel täiskuuks kasvas
Me vana kastruli alt öökonn armus Kuusse
Ja igatsevalt kasvumajas tatsas
Kuid mitte kunagi see Kuu ei tahtnud
Teda suudelda, et printsiks muutuks konn.


Today there is something in the air magical
In the way the cloud of rain
Spots us playing
With the invisible ball
Dancing on top of the table
And the moths
With the beautiful wings
Call upon us
When we are together and not together in my kitchen
It feels as if there is the change in the air
And it feels beautiful



Siludes sirgeks tähtede linu
Kasvasid mõtted mis päriselt sinu
Lendasid akendest õue ja aeda
Katsid mängumuru ja taeva
Enam sul rahus mõelda ei lasknud
Igal pool otsima sundisid vastust


Minatunde ja meietunde
Ma mõtlen tagasi
Mitte, et saada neid tagasi
Aga ma mõistsin, et
kui ma end ära jagasin
Mind ei olnudki enam endale vaja
Kuni Sinust sai otsustaja
Kes määras mu teeleminekuaja
Et otsiksin ennast ja meid
Eile ma vaatasin endasse tagasi
Ja tundub justnagu su süles
Ma kaua sügavalt magasin
Ja nägin nii ilusat und
Et kadus ära mu minataju
Ja selle hetkegi maha magasin
Kus sa üksinda ärkasid üles
Kadumise ja eneseleidmise vahel
Ma hoian veel kinni sul käest
Kas harjumusest või soovist
Teadmata, kas me läheme, oleme, tuleme,

või olen ainult mina teel
ja räägin sulle, mida ma näen
Et ma olen ärkvel ja lähen
Vanal jalgrattal

millega võin sõita läbi aja

sina pakiraamil


Everything in me is quiet
I dont want anything else
I dont want to feel anyone else
Nothing at all
I dont want to overwrite what we were
But i know we werent anything
Then how this nothing
Can be worth everything


I want
To understand but i don’t
Was it pity
Was it wine
Was it what you wanted
Or was it unintended
Was it real
Or because I wanted it
I  was afraid
That it am nothing
Just a memory
i feared
that you will regret
And wish it didnt happen
And I promised to myself
That I dont say anything
Or hope
I do as it wasnt real
So that you can understand
What it was
i fear you think it was not
How i should be after
I fear you think
I am only a mummy
Smelling of milk
And you cant wish me
I fear you regret that
You gave me love that
You shouldnt have done
I fear it never happens more
But i count another era
Three day of you and me
Shy and not knowing
This is what i want to believe
And that you never will be angry


i don’t feel safe in the world that you remade

new stencils reappear on the walls of torn-down houses

as soon as i have erased them from my mind

little paths emerge that we did not walk

until all the grass is tramped beneath where my windows were

but there is nothing more to find out

we have moved out from here


Meid hoides tantsid
tühjusest me omaks ühe hetke
Mis mängult meile annad
Nõnda tõene näib
Et andestada võiks ma
Kõik need tuuleretked
Kus meid sa pärast unustamas käid


do you remember your destination

because i have forgotten what it was
because i want to stay in Tehran
between Persian words that i cannot read
and it is better this way
freezing in the tent in the snow
high on top of Damavand, off the track
a silent observer for the futures burnt
on top of another peak
i want to take time off for being
here and now without you

Lisa kommentaar

Täida nõutavad väljad või kliki ikoonile, et sisse logida: Logo

Sa kommenteerid kasutades oma kontot. Logi välja /  Muuda )

Google+ photo

Sa kommenteerid kasutades oma Google+ kontot. Logi välja /  Muuda )

Twitter picture

Sa kommenteerid kasutades oma Twitter kontot. Logi välja /  Muuda )

Facebook photo

Sa kommenteerid kasutades oma Facebook kontot. Logi välja /  Muuda )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: