ZBIGNIEW ROTH (Poland): Can I find a Rose?
Sunday's heat is created by the silence of sunny colours
shattered by the singing of church morning bells
passes through the greenery thirsty for caresses
to fall on the window sills of block of flats
penetrating the glaze of the window panes, it peeps in where there is
an empty vase with an open flower bosom
the earth, thirsty for rain, sighs to the heavens
its ashen particles are carried by the summer wind over the roads
and I escape with my dreams to the sands of the Baltic beaches
where my body is bathed in the summer breeze and enjoys the coolness
the thought of an empty vase pushes me forward
maybe I will find the Amber Rose.
