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Saturday, 27 April 2024

Rain - Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger

You go. And the asphalt is suddenly wet,
The green on the trees suddenly new,
And a scent as if of fresh hay
Strikes you in the face that, warm and pale,
Has long awaited the rain.

The grasses that dusty, tired and dull
Have bent down to the earth,
Happily see the swallow flying nearby
And seem suddenly proud again.

But you go. Go, lonely and alone
And know not whether to laugh or cry.

Yet, here and there, sunbeams are shining
As if they have no concern for the rain.

Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger (1924- 1942) Ukraine
Translated by David Paley

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