Beatiful poetry oof the genius from Czech Republic, one of the sanest voices twenty of century. Translation of anthology from the whole work Ewald Osers.

Ukázka:

Cinderella

Cinderella is sorting her peas:
bad ones those, good ones these,
yes and no, no and yes.
No cheating. No untruthfulness.

From somewhere the sound of dancing.
Somebodys horses are prancing.
Somebodys riding in state.

The slippers no longer too small,
toes have been cut off for the ball.
This is the truth. Never doubt.

Cinderella is sorting her peas:
bad ones those, good ones these,
yes and no, no and yes.
No cheating. No untruthfulness.

Coaches drive to the palace door
and everybody bows before
the self-appointed bride.

No blood is flowing. Just red birds
from distant parts are clearly heard
as, plumage ruffled, they alight.

Cinderella is sorting her peas:
bad ones those, good ones these,
yes and no, no and yes.

No little nuts, no prince that charms
and we all long for mothers arms,
yet there is but one hope:

Cinderella is sorting her peas:
softly as one fits joints together
with fingers gentle as a feather,
or as one kneads the dough for bread.

And though it may be light as air,
merely a song in someones head
a gossamer of truth is there.

Cinderella is sorting her peas:
bad ones those, good ones these,
yes and no, no and yes,
no cheating in this bout.

She knows that she is on her own.
No helpful pigeons; shes alone.
And yet the peas, they will be sorted out.