‘It's as if one lives on a railway embankment.
At first one notices every train, then one simply
doesn't hear them anymore.'
- a resident of Huntsville
when the electricity, that evening,
collapsed, the lights flickered
on the Christmas tree, went out. far off
the late train. us, the night, the roasting-smell -
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem