The child's roughly used clothes Poem by Maya Sarishvili
The child's roughly used clothes
The child's roughly used clothes.
Yes, that's what let me recognize clarity.
I shall come here, I said,
And silently they dropped me off there.
The things took off their headscarf,
So that I could see how big the ears had grown. Words I had heard
Were watching from there
And I recognized the room, too . . .
Two opaque children
Came up to my bed.
Translation: 2007, Donald Rayfield
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/30/2024 3:38:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
