Can’t change a light bulb without burning the fingers

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Can’t change a light bulb

Without burning the fingers,

Can’t fall in love

Without burning the nostrils –

I fall in love with cherry blossoms,

I fall in love with spring flamingos,

I fall in love with rose whispers –

the soft monotony of early spring!

The flowers are cross-legged as Buddhas

Rehearsing the asanas on my nose,

Sometimes I think my lips are ghosts

Remote as the Moon.

All cherries are the answers to my questions,

All cherries bloom between my dream and nothing,

The moon has risen over Brussels –

Fish-shaped and of the salmon colour.

I hopefully one day will learn to change a lightbulb

Without harm, without doubt,

But first I learn to fall in love,

Without shutting

the silence of the leaves –

without saying a word.