You get put to bed, my little boy, excitedly,
like the last symbol in an ingenious formula. Today
with your laws of poof, bam, and boom,
you discovered the essence of physics
with your icky ick the heart of esthetics
and by asking “wa sat?”- philosophy.
With the sweetest of cuddles we send you to sleep, but
catastrophe looms for, in a moment, you will be all alone
in your bed, little pharaoh, interred with all the court
of obedient teddies, troves of precious pacifiers
rattles and your newly betrothed:
a remote-controlled BMW.
In the morning, when Your Great Learned Father
opens up the tomb to steal a kiss
from you and remove all the remains of things
in the photograph to the family museum
in Grandma’s photo album and you make an adorable face,
the pharaoh’s curse is triggered.
From this moment the world is turned upside down, its sand
slowly slips into your hourglass.
Shrunken enough to take a seat in your
remote-controlled BMW, in which you give it a lift
towards the nether world. As far as
the range of your love
Translated by Jennifer Zielinska