| 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 | Willesden Green Fanfara funerara se scurgea peste un camp mlastinos, peste lespezi de marmura, ca sa priveasca a ta cutie din lemn cum coboara in pamant, ca sa se piarda sub tarana aruncata cu lopata. Cine se afla acolo? Nu mai conteaza acum. Ploaia cadea fara incetare peste noi toti. Imi amintesc frigul si dorinta de a fi din nou acasa, si nimic altceva. Tineam o mana, un fiu ma sprijinea, ascultam elogiul unui bun prieten. Mintea-mi era amortita. Ce se intampla? M-ai intrebat candva, in friguri. Atunci te-am linistit. Acum sunt muta. George Cojocaru |
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...