What remained of all that

by Michal Habaj

What remained of all that

they depart: leaving behind them a dustbowl: burning

horses: dead tanks: swords and keyboards: chopped like bloody

hands: in grass and thicket: bare brushwood of bodies: now small and

invisible robot systems: buzz and become airborne:

the mechanical flies the digital ladybirds: armed aerial

forces: new bombarders: who sits there and guides from the cockpit

the death-bringing warheads the engines of time? I fear: that never

more will your hand huddle in mine: when our memories

are dying away: of the naked body’s beauty: deep under the spacesuit

of the prisoner: under more and more layers of matter:

I do not hear your heart: I do not hear your blood: deep

deep: faraway faraway: on the dead plateaux:

we grope: two amorphous beings embracing

through layers of memories: from all sides: arrive

the fighting systems: where shall we hide from danger

if not in our hearts?

© Michal Habaj, translated by John Minahane