Love

Two thousand cigarettes.
A hundred miles
from wall to wall.
An eternity and a half of vigils
blanker than snow.


Tons of words
old as the tracks
of a platypus in the sand.


A hundred books we didn't write.
A hundred pyramids we didn't build.


Sweepings.
Dust.


Bitter
as the beginning of the world.


Believe me when I say
it was beautiful.


Miroslav Holub
Selected Poems / Penguin Modern European Poets, 1967.