| Willesden Green The band of mourners shuffled out across a field of mud past rows of marble slabs to watch your wooden box lowered into the earth, there to be lost beneath the shovelled soil. Who turned up ? It doesn’t matter now. The ceaseless rain poured over all of us. I remember the cold, and wanting to be home again, but not much more. A hand I held, a son supported me, I listened to a good friend’s eulogy. My mind was numb. What’s happening? you asked me once in a high fever. And I reassured you then. Now I am dumb | Pajistea Willesden Un grup de oameni indoliati abia se tarau peste campul mocirlos peste randuri de lespezi de marmura sa iti vada racla din lemn cum e coborata in pamant, si acolo sa se piarda dedesubtul argilei sapata de lopeti. Cine a venit? Nu mai conteaza acum. Ploaia curge neincetat peste noi toti. Imi amintesc frigul, si imi doream sa fiu din nou acasa, nimic mai mult. Tineam pe cineva de mana, ma sprijinea un fiu, Ascultam elogiul unui bun prieten. Mintea imi era paralizata. Ce se intampla? M-ai intrebat odata cand febra te mistuia. Si te-am linistit atunci.Acum sunt impietrita. Florentina Rahira Tinte |
TRANSLATION CAFÉ 2008, Nr. 23/January 15, 2008, Anny Ballardini, Translations from: Anny Ballardini – Someone else by Gabriela Moldovan – Altcineva
Anny Ballardini - Someone elseI woke up this morningand they had stolen my carmy house my bed my eyesmy mind my family my fatemy job my friendsleft there on the scorching groundI went downtown and got a plastic hearta couple of colored marbles for my...