Under, Marie: The Full Moon (Täiskuu in English)

Kuu on täis lõhkemiseni,
puud painutab looka.
Veed ihkavad vist saada viinaks,
nad on nii rahutud.

Tänavad kui hingaksid!
Majadel on tiivad õlgadel -
kõik on nii pidulik:

uste ette on laotet
tiigrinahku…

katustelt lehvib
lumiseid lippe.
Rändajal aupaiste juustes,
kaap peos täis kiiri,
vammus laiguline
kui arlekiinil.  

Koer tõukab piimase koonuga
oma virilat varju,
haistab seda elukat:
pureleme pisut!

Vanal sohval on kuldsed paigad…
Seinad värisevad -
nad vist selgest puhtast veest:
kõik aeva voogab!

King sääl kui klaasist…
Nüüd just ta astub!
Kuulen ta kõlisevat sammu.  

Aknalaual hüppevalmis
suur valge kass
piparmüntrohelissilmine:
ju tunnen ta salakavalat
käppa oma kurgul…  

Kes see nii kaelustab unes?
Luupainaja! Luupainaja!
Ärkan…
Kuu ruuge habe mu rinnal.

Bursting full is the moon,
its weight bends the trees.
The waters desire to be turned to wine,
they are so restless.

The streets are breathing;
the houses have wings on their shoulders -
everything is festive:

tigerskins
have been spread out on the thresholds.

Snowy flags flutter
from the roofs.
The traveller wears a halo in his hair,
the hat in his hand is full of moonrays.
He wears the checkered coat
of a harlequin.

A dog pushes his crooked shadow
with his milky muzzle;
what a strange smell -
stand up and fight!

The old sofa has golden patches,
The walls tremble
They are made of water, clear, pure water -
everything is aflow.

Shoes made of glass -
I hear their ringing steps
coming right at me.

On the windowsill, ready to pounce,
a great white cat
with mint-green eyes:
I feel its sly paw
on my throat.

Who is embracing me in my sleep?
Incubus! Incubus!
I awaken.
The moon’s yellow beard on my breast.