during ill days
when gloomy and heavy rains
drop onto my head
I wander off somewhere
at the very end of the city
where lost boys
in conspiracy with a wind
patiently build
their playful
worlds of mud

their hands
lively and naked
hanging over the clifs
from where the flame burns
swallowing gluttonously
all that comes in front

while stoping
sometimes just like that
I recognise you
amongst them

what gives you away
are the scars
of the severed wings
on your sholders

Vinko Kalinic
October 22, 2010
From the collection
“Our Adam, Who art in heaven”

(Translated into English
Darko Kotevski, Melbourne, Australia)