I knew
I had put on my shoes the wrong way
I knew
one has to leave
the red law
before taking up arms—
one has to live a little bit grey
to teem only in the sixth
to flee the after
to stick to the now.
Sometimes it’s spring
the bright green impedes
it revokes my wrong steps
leading me spontaneously
to the jagged blue.
I have to beg and plead
on my bended knees
until the autumn arrives—
I do surrender
just put me offside
but please
give the ball back to me.
September
2008
Los Angeles
Translated by Samvel Mkrtchyan
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