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5

11

A    Women

I think, that I am a fraction of being
and non-being.

As everything else – visible and invisible

Admired and damned.

Praised in songs. Huntad with words

Compared to the flower of camellia.

To the lump of malachite.

Sucked in, like a nectar of rose.

Inhaled as a fragrance of rose.
               
Etheral and hermetic.
  
Horizontal and spacial
  
Wrapped in a shroud of mystery.

Visible, like an object on a palm.

Understood and inconceivable.

In the array of definitions –

always the same... always ...nameless.

Zofia Borowska (Sota)*