every early hour of the
morning
before the church bell rings
for the first mass
the wife folds everything
from blankets to towels
to underwear
and paper bags and
scarfs
and one by one she
would put them
well arranged inside
the cabinets
the husband has noticed these
for days but he pretends that
this activity is just normal for
wives and
that it will also be normal
for husbands not to mind
perhaps she just wants
to show
that everything must be
well kept
and perhaps he wants to
make the impression
that indeed everything
must be well-kept
but until when? oh, she keeps
it to herself
and oh, same thing with him,
he also keeps it to
himself
that will always be
the beginning of their story
the middle
and perhaps also the end
but everybody knows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem