EASTER JAZZ

Sonny Rollins

mad and bearded like god with his sax

wild as the wind

beating against the door

of Symphony hall

prophesizes that spring has a chance

to bloom

and the mindloose jazz

and my desire

and blood

blow recklessly through my veins

I go

I dance

I catch the syncopations,

Lord of Jazz,

Bless, please, this our Easter.

Translated by Askold Melnyczuk