Summer 2001 • Vol. XXIII No. 3/4 PoetryJuly 1, 2001 |

The High Castle

From the Polish.    To Leszek Elektrowicz with enduring friendship  1. As a reward an excursion    to the High Castle before we reach its foot a trip in a trolleycar        a great concert of the ironworks of iron forged wrought adored     alto of the rails oboes in the thick grass of confusion   at each swerve the trolley burns in ecstasy   on the roof a comet with a violet tail   fervent clatter of red hoarse triumphant tin    reflected in the glass panes hushed peaceful pale Lvov a candelabra of tears 2. the High Castle shyly hides its feet under the blanket of hazel woods nightshade nettles     a grove of procuresses     an arm with an anchor clasps a white sweaty blouse 3. we take shortcuts on a path as rapid as a stream     here Jozef and Teofil were hung because they loved freedom too fervently     —aren't you annoyed by the shouts of the c

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