It’s Monday,
and from the kiosk on the corner
a croissant and a new poet under my arm
I start my Dublinesque odyssey
Today I leave imprints in the asphalt
This is the day when I take my face
for a walk past this city’s shop windows
(trembling they stare back at me)
The day when I and myself
go out together for a meal in town (standing)
I carry a poem with me (born in the metro)
Angels with haloes huffed from aurolac prayed for us
Careful as I usually am
I cross the street the poem on my lips
A car puts the brakes on reality
at my dreaming feet
“Hey, you, monthly poet
rapt in an illusion with a part at the back
walking in heels is like walking on water”
Floarea Ţuţuianu (20th century) Romania
Translated by Adam J. Sorkin and Irma Giannetti
Source: Diode
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you. Note that comments are moderated so it may be a day or two before your comment is posted - irrelevant or abusive comments will not be published.