Translation © Eso A.B.
The Devil’s Own Boots,
Rozinante has a difficult time
ascending Sun Mountain.
An earthquake shakes it.
Rocks and bolders slide
and obstruct passage.
When on top,
A sign announces:
“Approach at your own risk!
The Sun died the day before yesterday.
All you see or hear happen
may be of yesteryear,
illumined only by the artifice
of the dark of starlight.”
move their limbs,
without the sensation of time
and as if the Mind (whatever that is)
is a clock with no gears moving.
For all the warning,
the Sun appears.
She is as large as the entire stage
and has the dead face
of a full Moon.
There is a writ on her face:
“I am dead.”
Still, the air is as hot
as a hot summer night
and reaks of ebola victims
buried in haste in shallow graves.
Where is the Sun?
Shoine as if they are of moonstone,
sodium potassium aluminium silicate
as the technocrats call it.
of moonlit fog and
matted gold of desert sands,
the Sun had only contempt
for those who saw traffic lights
but did not see Her.
She was a patriot of the land
once known as Land of St. Johns
filled with refrains of joyful allegro,
but now deserted of its ancient song.
the Sun shines black snakes
and poisons all dreams.
and bleed blood from his finger.
and the Sun-moon gave
a caesarean birth.
A monster ball of old rags,
brown and foamy plastic
brakes through the face
of the Moon’s artifice
and rolls center stage.
Here speaks the Sun
from the netherworld.
You scared the hell out of me,
…who or whatever you are.
here is a present for you.
It will keep you warm,
when you fly above the clouds.
with a vest of bear fur.
am I to presume you are the Sun?
what brings you to me?
What do you wish to know?
I came to visit and invite you
To return to Old Ra-Zhanna’s Inn
for a free, all expenses paid weekend
of bed and breakfast fun.
I wish to acquaint you
with what post-proto-Latvians
with some help from Harvard University,
are doing to rebuild their nation.
The tourist business
is foremost on the list.
There is but one trouble with the plan.
All would be developers
are willing to develop only if
they will be able to grow cannabis,
that will heal their stressed visitors
Unfortunately, the Latvian government,
with the God of Westphalia
dictating it its morals will not allow
anyone to entertain the thought
before entertaining the thought
of spending five years in jail.
Is there anything else on your mind?
Rozinante and myself saw
A long line of people
with rope in hand
How long must they continue
To do so?
your government will cause them unhappiness.
It’s the 11th Commandment
that commands taxes
that is to blame.
Speak to me in singular, John.
Her name is Crazy Jane.
You see, she is stressed and standing
knee deep in the waters of the River Styx
and ladling water
with a bucket that has no bottom.
For how long must she do this?
It is my punishment for
her being stupid enough to trust you.
Why did she steal her father’s boots
and give them for you and Rozinante to wear?
I have noticed that you have not
put on the boots on yourself feet.
Are you afraid where they might take you?
Give them back to her
and she is free to go.
Though said to be dead,
She was growing angrier by the minute
and shooting off green sparks.
The vest, Her gift to Smartass John,
was baking his shoulders.
but had one more question.
While passing through Alleluialand.
I spoke with a raven in the garden
of King John First the Sun’s Divine Devil.
The raven wishes to know for how long,
it must sit tied to the pine tree?
As soon as you give proper burial
To the dead newborn
of the kitchen maid your brothers laid.
She left the babe
but covered with pine branches.
Tied to Alleluialand’s shores?
you ask, Smartass John.
Tell that fish not to be so presumptuous.
Its size is its own sea.
Let it consult a shrink.
But, Smartass John, now tell me:
What is the real purpose of your visit?
To marry Princess Unsurpassable
and become rich.
Such a Princess lives?
If I lead you to her, will you pay me
with your blood?
But hear she is said to be the daughter of
King John First the Sun’s Own Devil’s.