Time is imprisonment in Fortress If.
/ For You /

Lubomír Tomik

I.

Prison on If Island is a time,
beauty
beauty bigger,
than You,
Abbé Faria had never seen,

walled up in the deepest indecision of grounded miracles,
walking on the broken spine of death,
after boiling water,
and emerging from the swamps of the mind,
behind the walls of the gardens, Merrimack and Monitor lead the battle,
circling around,
around and in the fortress If,
starched shrouds merge from the moon,
You have a thorn in your hand and You will run like an immortal Fairbanks
on the sail down,
into my arms

touch the petals of a rose,
diamond dust

suddenly She grabbed my hand
and we escaped down a spiral cast iron staircase,
Abbé Faria closed  eyes and took a deep breath.


II.

Descendants of dolphin and mermaid sailors
and Captain Jean Baptiste Chataud
enters the port in explosions of batteries of cannons,
rider in a rich turban
seemed full of shadows,

or you have a cell with a window and a fireplace on the first floor,
You don't even know
 live on top of wishes,
lanterns glow into the night,
try not to lose everything every day,
house of the sovereign people
it is built on dusty stakes
in Lake Bina
and She sailed to start a new life.







III.
The sea below the Fortress leaves no trace,
when You step on the waves,

I will pluck a rose to You, growing on the edge of the solar system,
her scent is full of meteors of Your words,
I am the hungry atmosphere of the planet,
longing for the glowing pieces of stone You,
            with Abbe's words to Faria on her lips:

"She burned you with the light of the stars."

Yes, You burned me with the light of the stars.



Epilogue:

Time is imprisonment in the Fortress If,
time IS Fortress If,
we sew into bags of corpses and
 pretend to die

when our bodies slide into the depths,
cut thorns from roses canvas and
 hug each other underwater,
before we run out of breath
before the sharks' teeth do their job,

all for one moment,

one moment in time,
                                 on the island of If.