and just like that
it was time to pack up and leave
to roll up my life
move it from the small apartment
into a larger one
black bags white bags
nothing fits in there easily
a life well folded
tightened into the cupboards
clothes, shoes, panties, rings, blank pictures and frames
big earrings rusty earrings forgotten ones in the boxes
old and new books
books on every side
yet how can life fit bit by bit into bags
clenched jammed zipped
folded unfolded
it dissolves into black and white bags
piece by piece my carefully folded life
scents and perfumes spread throughout the room but
before leaving someone has to collect things
my husband lets me know that time is running out
I don’t know how to gather life bit by bit
how to squeeze it into white and black bags
nylon bags hemp bags paper bags
a piece of life here a piece there
I’m scared of plucking well-folded memories
a necklace a bracelet a white blouse
all black shirts
someone has to collect the items
put them in bags and carry them
until dust covers them again
to put the eighth-floor sky in some black bag
or a blue one or grey
in what bag shall I put you
in what bag should I put myself
there are no more bags
(I’ve ran out of bags)
I don’t have a bag for my black boots
for my cashmere coat
Can anyone lend me some bags for my life
some bags to lend for my life
to put my dreams there
one by one to fold them beautifully
woven bags with plant fibres for the life which refuses
to come with me
to fold my memories in silk bags
in those purple bags
but someone has to collect some things before leaving
both dust and sludge and spider webs
to leave it clean for the new owner
alas, there is something that does not fit in the bag
as there are such small bags and giant bags with no bottom or top
that you just can’t lift.
Blerina Rogova Gaxha (born 1982) Kosovo
it was time to pack up and leave
to roll up my life
move it from the small apartment
into a larger one
black bags white bags
nothing fits in there easily
a life well folded
tightened into the cupboards
clothes, shoes, panties, rings, blank pictures and frames
big earrings rusty earrings forgotten ones in the boxes
old and new books
books on every side
yet how can life fit bit by bit into bags
clenched jammed zipped
folded unfolded
it dissolves into black and white bags
piece by piece my carefully folded life
scents and perfumes spread throughout the room but
before leaving someone has to collect things
my husband lets me know that time is running out
I don’t know how to gather life bit by bit
how to squeeze it into white and black bags
nylon bags hemp bags paper bags
a piece of life here a piece there
I’m scared of plucking well-folded memories
a necklace a bracelet a white blouse
all black shirts
someone has to collect the items
put them in bags and carry them
until dust covers them again
to put the eighth-floor sky in some black bag
or a blue one or grey
in what bag shall I put you
in what bag should I put myself
there are no more bags
(I’ve ran out of bags)
I don’t have a bag for my black boots
for my cashmere coat
Can anyone lend me some bags for my life
some bags to lend for my life
to put my dreams there
one by one to fold them beautifully
woven bags with plant fibres for the life which refuses
to come with me
to fold my memories in silk bags
in those purple bags
but someone has to collect some things before leaving
both dust and sludge and spider webs
to leave it clean for the new owner
alas, there is something that does not fit in the bag
as there are such small bags and giant bags with no bottom or top
that you just can’t lift.
Blerina Rogova Gaxha (born 1982) Kosovo
Translated by Vlora Konushevci
Source: The Common
Source: The Common
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