I would like
to take something with me
but even one chair
is too awkward
too heavy
peeling paint
falls off in a suitcase
hinge sounds betray a theft
cheeses won't keep
the clothespin
without its surroundings
would be mediocre
the big thunder rolled elsewhere
the umbrella is for sale
but in a desert what you want is a soaking
the do not disturb sign is tattered
I have many times taken
some cafe's small packets of sugar
so that in Turkey
I might sweeten my coffee with China,
and in Italy remember a Lithuanian pastry
but where is the coffee
hands left and right useless
knees clattery
heart finally calm
as some hero at the end of a movie
squinting silently into the sun
you can't hold an umbrella there anyhow
and what would he hang from the clothespin
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem