Náměstí Svobody

Náměstí Svobody, Freedom

of time — rhythm, meter, rhyme

separates the American

from what in Moravia

has become mine

•

I sit, as fallen cherry blossoms

melt into earth, their scent still

perfumes clean air, the way

the lovely month of May

will linger

•

In winding cobblestone streets

encircling and guided by

the revolving heartbeat of

a central astronomical clock—

I never learned to read its time.

•

Yet, I’ve seen it draw daily crowds,

emitting enchanted spherical

prophecies, precisely at the 11th hour,

striking twelve to ensure the city’s

ever-lasting salvation

•

Because

the hour alone could never express

how the painted stars, sun, and moon

pass over Špilberk Castle’s night sky;

how a melody can encompass

the cadence of a dialect’s phrase;

how the splendor of May lasts

in every church facade display;

or express

Brno’s grandeur of time