by Ludmyla Taran, 1994

The spot of India ink is beautifully
Round and seems soft
As velvet. Its moist sheen
Defines a reclining body
Giving it volume and heat.
                       I love
Black -- the multiplicity of its meanings:
Sorrow, fear, grief, passion
And the pull of the abyss.
There is no fawning,
Frivolity, or frenzy --
Total rigor.
                       But from this darkness
Those who want -- hear the call of
A magnificent heart.

translated from the Ukrainian by Virlana Tkacz and Wanda Phipps

tar1.doc 7/23/94

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