The seventh day of my birth

I spoke the language
of the world I'd come from
bore witness to a shadow
which was the shadow
of another light
which no one saw

in the seventh month of my birth
my mouth took the shape of the void
I cried to tell what was true
and that which the present had taught me
of the past of the future
but no one heard

the seventh year of my birth
I dreamed what had been
on the world's lined page
I traced letter after letter
to remind myself
of what I had to forget
and of what in me was already dying

Translation: Marilyn Hacker
Tuesday, May 16, 2017

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3/5/2021 2:08:23 PM #