COLD Poem by Sigitas Parulskis
COLD
Mother
with Mother
we went underground
into the cellar for pickles
the water in the barrel was murky
liquid covered with mold
Mother said
Ah, but the water's cold
the water's cold I repeated
and where does this cold come from
so cold my arm loses feeling
maybe from the dark
from night or from the ground
from the ground
beneath the ground it will be even colder
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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3/6/2026 8:06:39 PM # 1.0.0
