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Viktor Neborak

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Viktor Neborak

  • A Fragment from The Restoration

    (A Iambic Memoir with Some Elements of Bubabu)

    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

    The passage is shot upwards.

    St Andrew’s is soaked

    in stringy May, and phantom knights

    look downward through limpid air.

    The Descent in swaying in the rhythm

    of footsteps, the Descent changes its skin

    and rebuilds, and in its make-up

    like in shining armor attacks

    the gray formation of routine. Pull the veil!

    Amidst the ears, I’m in the forest,

    amidst the eyes, like many candles,

    and eye-to-eye with a motionless beast,

    which is the audience, it is watching,

    it is crumpling wipers, its nose is running,

    it hides boos and hisses in its mouth,

    it needs and craves for a silly circus,

    it roars and tears through the net,

    and it is waiting for ‘V.W.’!

    1. W., those are my initials,

    it does not matter, yet it changes

    nothing, there were

    no theater-goers, and the play

    was not planned either, just

    the reading of my poems, and The Wails

    have gathered the fans of Bubabism…

    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

     

    May – July, 1991

    Lviv

    (Suchasnist, 1992, № 2, p. 14–15.)
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