Speaking In Tongues
Guided by Voices

M. Bogoslavsky

Translated by Alex Sitnitsky

The sonnet by Paul Verlain's motives

In lovers' deeds you will remain no wiser,
So sloppy, clumsy, torpid in this art.
You're not Andromache, I'm not Hector, either.
This rusty nail -- take out from my heart.

Hey, will you thaw, become more plain, nicer
As heated wax? Don't play this game so hard.
Relax, inhale...or gasp with true surprise and
Caress my stupid brain with tender arm.

Who vanquished here, belittled the only treasure,
Forced down cruelly here weary shoulder-blades?
To get from brief convulsion a keen pleasure
As flesh demands and passion ululates.

Yet rubbish dwells inside us, doesn't it?
You are my sister. I am your brother.