Jan Borna

Jan Borna. Photo by Martin Špelda

On the Journey Home

In an unheated compartment
in a dilapidated carriage
snow falls on horses hauling wood
beyond the opaque windows,
our seats shake over the tracks
and you touch my knee,
slowly letting it slip between yours,
the journey of frozen joints transforms
in the fortress of your thighs,
only now do we meet
on this night journey home
and through your thighs’ warmth eyes gain courage,
never have I counted lashes —
on open eyelids,
never fallen into chasms on lips,
when a tongue returns their shine,
never on a round chin found a hair
as soft as the gaze
you return to me.
And I’m afraid of the coming stop.
One of us will disembark.

JAN BORNA (1960–2017) was a Czech theater director and poet. 

About the Translator:

CHRIS CRAWFORD is a founding editor of B O D Y.