Street lamps on the closing curve,
off-white silk skirts
Growing claws, tomorrow hangs
onto yesterday.
The city laid out after rain
like a freshly washed corpse.
Love’s not enough for anything.
It does not turn deceit good.
It does not obstruct spite.
It does not ease death.
There has to be something else
beyond love.
Tibor Babiczky (born 1980) Hungary
Translated by Timea Balogh (now Timea Sipos)
Source: Lunch Ticket
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