Palmovka

Dear Memories of the Czech,

Beautiful streets-

Yet not as if it didn’t exist

A much heavier gloom lingered in the out reach

Beautiful streets turned dreary with the stench of man

A place for them who didn’t know home

And for those searching for something of necessity

The mist of grunge welcomes not the clean white shirt

A place where man’s search for silver ends

And where sadness puts on like a coat in bitterness 

Lost in the looking and finding in substance alone

Only the brave will talk to him in affliction

For Grace sufficient is the same for all

Dreary streets-

Turned beautiful with endless strides of love

 

Common is so common when in the eyes of pride

And dirty gets you dirty when treated for its Crown

Perhaps in colored glass the problem seems so different

And only as pertains to you does the problem stay with them

 

Dreary eyes-

Yet not as if it didn’t exist

A lighter air still lingers in the grasp of one’s own hands

Dreary eyes turned beautiful through the hope from somewhere else

 Home turns to a matter of ambition

And peace reaches even the most tranquil moments

Dirt is washed with the Grace foretold

Beauty is not the suit and tie but the experience

Lost in the looking and finding in Hope

For Grace sufficient is the same for all

Dreary eyes-

Turned beautiful with endless strides of love.

S Laskou,

Starsi Trost