Oh beauty with weary arms in the pitying neon
light
That pours like death moans on your hair,
Oh beauty with weary arms, screams congealed
on your fingers,
Bellows died in echoes among the naked autumn
trees.
Corinthian columns rise with the gulls in the
plaster sky
Where frescoed Europa swims on the bull in heavy
seas,
Apollo stares at a mirror with eyes of stone
And on the marble table meat blossoms like a
delicate rose.
(Henrikas Radauskas)
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