Who can put fire on the palm of his hand?
And to entertain himself by remembering the snowy mountains of the Caucasus
Or the sharp blade slows down hunger by reminding them of colorful tables.
Or rolled naked in the snow of January.
And think of the Tammuz sun.
No! No one
No one could bear such a risk for such a memory
Because the idea of the good is not a cure for the bad
Rather, it increases their ugliness a hundredfold
Oh... who can hold the fire on his hand?
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus
Or cloy the hungry edge of the appetite
By bare imagination of a feast
Or wallow naked in December snow
By thinking on fantastic summers heat?
Never.
No one ever took such a risk.
He could not bear such a memory
Because the idea of the good is not a cure for the bad
Rather, it increases their ugliness a hundredfold
It adds to their ugliness a hundredfold
