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The Art of B.

Lubomír Tomik

at the dawn of modern geography,
when the atlases were to be extended by
reality,
dimension,
the line of the seas of our minds,
oceans of souls,
Continent of You,

the joy of laughter and merriment on the Sabbath of fairies,

Ganesha is forgotten,
thousands of gods disappear,
dust settles
just to get up

and with the trump of an elephant,
 he will crush you and me with the paw of love,

meat combined in androgyn,
we inside one body
connected forever.

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The Art of B.

Lubomír Tomik

za úsvitu moderního zeměpisu,
kdy se atlasy měly rozšířit o
reality,
dimenze,
linie moří našich myslí,
oceány duší,
Kontinent Tebe,

radost smích a veselí na sabatu víl,

na Ganéšu se zapomíná,
tisíce bohů mizí,

prach sedá,
jen aby se zvedl
a svou sloní tlapou lásky rozdrtí Tebe a mne,

maso spojené v androgyna,
my uvnitř jednoho těla,
spojeni navždy.