Stag Beetles Poem by Petr Borkovec
Stag Beetles
Then when it's dark this beetle
joins and unjoins the pear-tree leaves.
Two others turn the shelves of oak
to leather armchairs full of crumbs.
Deck-chairs, the unreal ones,
join battle in the garden, like speech.
Can't sit. Can't lie. It's all wrong.
But in the end you doze off in it.
Translated into English by Justin Quinn
Sunday, October 9, 2016
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7/25/2025 11:21:17 PM # 1.0.0
