Stepping out in these streets
Stepping out in these streets
Is like drifting away in the rivers’ sweep.
In a shop window, pots of paint on display,
But my glance strays past them to former days:
Tarred old roofs, and fences painted a long time ago
And I with paint-stained hands, and tar on my toes,
Roamed as I pleased
with blissful contentment and ease
In a world that was apple-green.
My uncle in the Salvation Army
Pounded his drums at every rally;
I smeared them all over with paint,
And when he set out to proclaim
the end of the world, he looked pained
Since the world and its mischiefs are ever reborn.
But I meant no harm —
In a world that was green
I was green and speckled and happy as happy can be,
All the colors blended and fused into light for me.
Stepping out in these streets
Is like drifting away in the rivers’ sweep.
From Contemporary Latvian poetry, edited by Inara Cedrins
, available on the Open Library (Link).